they sat in the office.
a floral tobacco brown coloured room
across a table crammed with papers,
and an open diary.
let’s amend this –
precisely at noon. a darkened sun,
the sky hanging wearily aloft
and he was in high esteem.
but dearest… the polemic nature
of behaviour noted for a minute;
beautifully written poems, translated
stanza by stanza, weakened by
brutal plagiarism; change in words few
but altogether natural, good.
now the playground rumours weigh
heavy like a 20 Kilo sack of rice
balancing on that curly head.
by such arrangement grappling boys
is forbidden in time set apart
from learning. even if sin is a lie,
this assimilation fail
calls for dense love…
freezing stares taper the air.
old nails and wrinkled hand tear down
papers pinned to the wall and crumpled
in that fastidious palm. She hurled them
into the metal bin making a din,
the heart’s blood freezing –
a grandeur deplored forever; the pen
amongst the best worked for hours
kindling the passion of peers –
shattered. a brooding instruction laced
the sternest glance and a pointed finger
heaving him out the half opened door;
the Arctic frosted glass glazed his reflection –
the feeling, the dream,
equitable to salt water repetitively tasted on the tongue,
trickling away a dream.