Foot-prints are all exhausted on yesterday's sands. You may ask for finger-prints at the agency office. Finger-prints, photos et all that they need for bio-metrics. Do you really require to know me? Two mail-ids I gave you years ago over the phone Are now both compromised, and the phone well-lost, Like Mark Anthony's Rome lost for Cleopatra. I am not really a creature worth-requiring to be known. Searching for the lost fo...

No secret written on sands lasts long. Waves don't bother how much you love Or how strong your disaffection be. But, be assured, whenever you remember me, I'll be with you, I'll always be. No cry in the desert can reach the ears you mean. Cactus-thorns don't care for your loneliness. But, be assured,wherever you cry for me, I'll be with you, yes, I'll always be. I walk on the waves, I lie on the sands, I sleep on cactus-b...

By the time her song weaves The lonesome road to happiness, I learn the art of listening to blue waves. Walking together we see flowers accompany us, Clouds, one or two, get distinctly impassioned. Colors mingle with fragrances as we leave our foot-marks behind. As her song weaves all our past in a fabric of present, I keep learning the art of remembering the forgettable.

She never knew The way I could be. It was all day long, A day-long eternity. All foot-prints on sands Were of the same feet, She never really knew How I was to repeat.She was unsure if love Could hold us all day long, As waves did back and forth Sing post-romantic song. She never really knew It was a Sabbath day All day long and after We did nothing say.

Tearing all my names I look deep into your eyes.  Those hazel glasses Reflect my facial suspicion. Bearing all my shames I run my fingers through your hair. Those ripening locks Return my unsung desires. Nearing all my penultimate passions I crawl into the solitude. You smile to fall off Like an autumnal leaf.

I can jump from one mistake to another, If you agree to be with me in all doldrums. Being correct is all mechanical, Clothes are never as good as bare bodies. I love to see my errors play with my incoming days, Turn me upside down, bully me to uncertainties. You know how Noah's arc survived the Flood. Clothes are never as good as bare bodies. If you agree to be with me, We can go for another deluge.

Your face like broken smiles Keep me awake. I search All the hidden mirrors For your immaculate torso. Smells in the kitchen-gardenResolve into memories,Water-spouts here and thereWork out a romantic alphabet..

It's so nice of you You don't  Remember me. Forgetfulness is never  Ever a crime.  Memories not taken care of Mutate into forgetfulness. All the lone stretches  We walked together Have been deserted By so many others. So many like ourselves Did remember to forget. Perhaps you don't remember The cut-mark  Just above my left brow,  Just as I don't remember  The colors of your nails When we last met. Memories not taken care...

Shingles scattered, Barrenness, sultry and looking beyond. All the unknown faces now disappear,  All the grimaces take on their suitable alternatives. Rain drops are not remembered,  Winds suspended at the long-lost horizon. Nothing moves as ever before,  Nothing begets out of nothing. Shingles scattered,  Barrenness, sultry and looking beyond. Lear's regrets for Cordelia are password-protected.

The last suburban train got preponed. I didn't apprehend, for it wasn't regular.Some railway porters consoled me a while,  Perhaps they thought I was in trouble. There was none else left on the platform.  I mean, somebody, who had a definite home to return.  I carried no luggage other than my backpack.  I really needed no porter to assist me. The problem was not that I missed the last train,  For no fault of my own since...

Crossing a desert is never a child's play. There's always so much of sands to get over.  Blistering sun during the day-time and unending thirst.  Camel-toes planting patterns ununderstandable. Crossing a desert is of no worth  If there's no river once you cross over,  If enough drinking-water is not available  At all the inns near the river bank. Have you ever chanced to see the yellow moon  Up above the desert sky? No, I...

When the rains come as bulging drops of tear, I can smell the wet warmth of your intimacy. As if you are here, there, and everywhere,  As if you run around me in the rain-soaked garden,  Your hair splashing a memory of love forbidden. When the rains keep coming more and more,  I can no longer smell or see or hear  Anything that once upon a time was you.

Whispering fears crawl on to me.I never expected they would come so near. Meandering through the evergreen forest,  The river could understand my discomfiture. Have all birds migrated to their summer destinations? The crawling, whispering fears are so different  From birds' untaught intonations. The river keeps safe distance in its willful motion. Nests of migrating birds do not offer me a refuge. Whispering fears slowly...

Your voice long lost returned to me.I wondered if I could decode its content. Falling leaves whispered in darkness. Misty air wrote perfect pentameter couplets. I did recognize your voice, lost and found. Whispering leaves punctuated your pulmonary motion. Pentametric air cared your nimble bi-labial plosives. Your voice long lost returned to me. I wondered if you were there behind your voice.

No signs of suffering could be seen Except the silence tied up with the spotless walls. The cubicle looked void of all memories, Glass doors seemed to have shut out all. The lonely medicated air was never willing To recall anything worth-remembering. He was there lying on a series of devices, Seeming to live on the edge of life, No face was enough to wake him up, No sighs to deal with his eyes. Let us wait downstairs with...