Can I disremember the pair of eyes used to look sidelong at me
And that quick chuckle after being caught suddenly by my sight.
That unhurried footsteps as if slow combing of paddy field by a sluggish blow of air
Or those downcast eyes like a verdant tree laden with pods
And the long interweaved plaits of hair dangling till thighs as if a play of some serpent’s toads
Only in your presence, I used to sieve life out of my living
Morning used to pass in mundane works; not a minute to breathe
Evenings waited to see your face lit like a full grown moon and I was too shy to exchange a word with you
Night was a time I used to talk to self, whatever I could have spoken to you
I still speak that words with me, but no iota of hope for a listener like you.