Inspired by the Mughal style of flower painting
Accompanied is a poem by my partner
’ Ooh…! The time-piece is a big mouth ’
And it finds its place in the corner
when it tried to abort her dreams.
But the noisy neighbourhood doesn’t care
about the completion of dreams
and the routine wakes her up.
Sitting on her bed she thinks
’ Is it a Sunday or a Monday? ’
She counts and recounts
till she looses account
Then she leans back and wonders…
’ Was it the dream or was it he
that brought the flowers? ’
’ Was it he or was it the dream
that failed to deliver? ’
She shrinks her eyes and scratches her head
No…she can’t find the flowers
but the fragrance lingers…
She closes her eyes and cuddles the fragrance
’ May a dream be induced… ’
But that cruel honk somewhere at a distance
is not conducive for her thoughts
It pulls her down and shouts
’ Nonsense..! Is smell the only sense? ’
Unleashing the windows and her anguish
she mutters, ’ Is dream the only means? ’
She rushes through reality…reluctant
putting things in their places
and tries to find if her heart is in place.
She’s dozing in her rocking chair
trying to find a dream to dream
Now, the dream gets broken before is started.
She opens her eyes and starts
’ Was it the dream or was it
the flower that made the call? ’
Again…the fragrance lingers..
’ Is that all I get? ’ she frowns
The scent haunts her
She runs through the passage
seeks the garden…seeks the sky
No..she can’t find him, nor the flowers.
Tired..she gets back and drops
on to her rocking chair, ’ I loose..’
A warm palm closes her eyes from behind
her heart misses a beat when he
leans forward and whispers,
’ Nonsense! Is smell the only sense?
Is dream the only means? ’
His embrace fills her eyes and her bosom
with them a thousand flowers bloom
Thousand flowers get ready
for the next calling._