His eyes are softly brown

weary and cautious

and his white wild hair

short..

trimmed curls..

a peacock..

featherless..

Wrinkles

break free

when he smiles ..

now so often

those rare smiles

his clothes clean,

sharp

comfortable

hold him erect

so much to do ..

he has much to tell

so

“Please give me one chance!”

hands clasped

“Listen! I beg you!”

money

“what will happen to the

money!?

all that i lent!

and all that i owe?”

tearful laughter in his

eyes

a grin that isn’t his

and old secrets

we must keep

he remembers ..

for he takes

the blames

for my mistakes

“You dont know anything!!!”

she cries back

when he tries

a towering

threatening

thunder cloud

and his voice withers

like a dampened

flame

But HE REMEMBERS!

when we said goodbye with

false promises of more visits

and calls

and raised a hand

at the man

standing staring out the glass

walls..

a slight slump

leant his fine sharp shoulders

A shadow crept

into his eyes

“Help me!”

they cried!

 As night unveils her pretty face

dabbed in a million silvers

leaving behind a bloodied sun

unaccompanied tonight

a hundred tiny faces stare up

is it dark enough?-

For

red clay diyas soaked hours earlier

and candles

for colourful rockets dropping

baby paper parachutes

and the cheeky, darting

woodpeckers

and for

car rides to checkout the

richer suburbs

so many parcels to be handed

back and forth…

and the gangs of boys

at the gate

wanting and waiting

watching for more

gulgulas, laddoos, halwa and kheer

too full

can we go out and play now?

in new saris and kameezes

smelling of sandalwood and incense sticks

A myriad shades of

sequins and veils

and kajal set deep

wondering eyes

of a frozen youth.