Shivaliks

By Deepti

Sitting on the roof of 1238

In the corner, with a recliner

Those twinkling lights

Faraway,

Calling you to come

To stay

But with financial crunch

And a dream not yet hunched

Me staring at that gaze

Something magical

Phenomenal

And refreshing like this wind

Hypnotising you to fall in love with them

They calling you

You falling for them

Sitting in the corner, staring at them

At 23 it’s hard to believe in magic

Which is tragic

Still you pick

But that’s their trick

Every time promising myself to reach out

And let’s talk it out

Me still sitting there while making a pout

It’s hard to see them

A clear sky is must

And no dust

And every time my heart pounds

To go, to talk

To chat like a parrot at park

Their magnificent sparks

Blinds me

Yet successfully binds me

Same as Mehmudpur nights

Those childhood dreams which still shines very bright

Same I used to do, staring at them

Like there’s no end

Tibbas what they call them

Home to others

But muse for us

At least to me

In the bright day light

It seems like an army of a big Rajput emperor

Elephant, horses, and lions to roar

At times, perceived as army going to war

At few instances, it all seems very peaceful

Just beautiful, no scars

Me knitting stories around them

Raja, rani, and praja

In June they were bruised and brunt with sun

In July they were shining bright with no light

Scrapping and scratching my dreams alive

Crave to fly

And very high

Instead I did sigh.

By Deepti