To The Mundane Of Life

By Pritish Gupta

What fairytale calls my idea

They say the idiots in love don't know the art of mundane

Love of rain. Shores of just the flowers beside the roads they walk

Claim as they may, lovers are living in fantasy

The worst idea of created reality

All to adore, all to myth, all to folktales

They reject it violently

To what do I owe the mercy to explore love in reality that I so wistfully break apart

Each rain has reflection of whole lifetimes

The eyes that they reflect, envision the future with their lover

Each road side puddle is the biggest swim to shore, to lover's home

Each car that sparkles waves of water to the stranger

In his own world, gets drenched, what is it 

if not sinking, 

Trial, tribulations we adore so much

Dance we say to any song in the kitchen we say, sit beside me on the counter

Is that not the greatest chef cooking for his maiden

What you must watch, what you crave

Sitting a top the ledge, looking at the sky

Did you never imagine the stars that talk

They shimmer so much, so much to say

Like your little lady love sitting far away

What pleasure do I owe reality to say

Yes the leaves are just rustling in the wind

And not dancing with me in the melodies of the many bards who sung before

Escape they call, rose tinted glasses they said

Hurts as it may, the blood turns all rosewater

Thorns go unseen, roses outpour each site 

you see

Blankets and blankets of flowers

You like your cherry blossom

You like the surreal, when the sun says no more summer

When autumn says no more chill breeze

Winter gone done given snow

Do the snow angels just came about 

Do they not fly

In the igloos, the small space

Does the skinship doesn't feel warm

Lady luck all men drink, say where did the money rain

Wedding they said, all fly in the skies

This cloud looks like dragon

That looks like boat

Oh if there were boats in sky

If we could breathe in space 

What colors do I owe to deity of creations

Try painting all of them, had come 

thousands short

We make sense of what

Try saying it all comes from events

That are mystery in themselves

Is it so hard to say, love was one such event

Swept of the feet, flying never felt less scary

Diving never felt so peaceful

Hands that held, felt like a conquest 

Embarked on many a journey

Do the accounts remembered all so simple

Never did you wish one shoudler tap could lead to conversation next

One slip and fall, the one to pick you up

Could take you away, hand in hand, breathe to breathe

Mingling in the night of street lights, to whispers in bed

The very bed you had imagine

What no roofs, no skies, no gaps, to the 

stars we had go

Before knowing they had burn us all

Yet you crave the touch, the person next to you shines 

Like the very star you wished upon

To my art of noticing life, all was a little mischievous 

The first time I changed my own clothes

I was knight ready to battle

Out of training grounds, 

Each time I was alone in dark

Ghosts never felt scary

The voices, if they could have talked

Talked and talked

Tales upon tales, history would have been so different 

Not of the victor, not of the losers but of the lived

What mercy do I owe to breathe in these times

Has loving gone easy, 

Each time the maiden doesn't listen to call

The patience that runs out

The hurt that stings

Healed by the call moments later

Tell to that unease, is it not easy

To hold the days out like these

To care for life like these

Each night do I not see the moon and hope

It had talked, 

Alone, I had wished it had give me a hug

Now with the kiss every evening of my love

Do I not care for the night that cared for me all these times

To mundane, to reality, it all is bit stagnant 

Come wear these glasses, come try living a day in these diaries 

Fall in love with the magic that exist

But never will be

Come see the mesmerizing dawn

As the chronicles continue their tales carried by such silk ridden winds

By Pritish Gupta