Poem: Summery

As the dusk dawns,
                        to wave bye-byes
We squeeze our pillows
                        with moist eyes
Savvy of our home’s worth
                        the very last night
with bagsful of wishes,
                        we board the return flight

On our one-way journey
which they call life

Far away from the shelter of adumbral trees in the
backyard
Tropical afternoons surpass in quiet, slumber
boulevard
Along the blooming gardens
                        where we wallflowers grew
Days began with vital tea
                        which our mothers brew
With them watering nurture
                        how green stood the trees
under the humid siestas
                        Of long summer spree
which we passed swimmingly
                        filling our wisdom journals
with morals from our Grandmas’ tales
                        and zest of their mango pickles

On our one-way journey
which they call life

Gathering bits and peanuts to shape our
borrowed nests
the alluring urban villages welcome us
into its din and dust
We settle on the highways and beyond
                        behind anonymous neighbourhoods
in uncaring matchbox colonies
                        ofthe civilized concrete woods
We scuttle arranging temporary fixes
                        as overhead sunshine gleams
to claustrophobic cubicles
                        chasing pretentious dreams
Strolling with the conventions
                        we linger in the rat race
and spend sleepless, maudlin midnights
                        with two hundred songs to Rishikesh

When the season seems out-of-order
we turn our days to weekends,
In the starry openness,
by the riversides,
we wander
in trail of healing valleys
Taking tranquil naps and sin-free dips
we comeback to resume our strife
from the sabbatical road-trips
which we call life

To the metropolis summers
Acceptinglore anddope
to endure
with much hope

From the water-can bearers
who walk several steps
to clench our thirst

the rickshaw pullers
waiting with beads of sweat
for one passenger

the dehydrated birds
which fly back
from the arid balconies

To the preoccupied placesin pursuits concurrent
With the uncharted flavoursand toasty savours
Of sweet escapes and seldom homecomings
Where freedom and kindness rains
In this one-way journey
Of Changing seasons
We call
Life

-Ashish