Tales of the Wanderlust

  Waiting for the summer rains, unaware that it would never come. Spinning out thousand  tales not knowing where they came from.   Fighting over a packet of maggie or nibbling half a 5 star for hours nothing was exclusively yours or mine the little we had was always ours.   Choosing a tinkle that has to be read now the happiness of having saved rupees ten in the old plastic dabba with a hole life was pure, pristine and simple then.   Come rains off we went to watch with glee and it was best viewed from the hall. who would sit which side of Johari’s window who gets to see the way the rains fall.   Both of us perched on its narrow sill, though unfathomable we did it, but how? Have we out grown it or has the world, Pinky, become too small for our love.

Take off your ear studs And start shaving daily. Keep your eyebrows knotted And stop moving gaily. Can you see in black & white? Can you worship your chores? Do you keep singing always? It’s rude to knock on the doors. A lieutenant cannot speak He should be all eyes and ears. Wait till you get three stars So silence for three years. Understand if I yell at you it’s only a correction, Ah did I tell you? you need to change your vision. Now the silly child within asks,  ‘Where is the bearded uncle, Who used to dance like possessed, And sing a song at will?’