Day 2: That place

That terrace,

from my house, was visible.

It was only a stone's throw away;

witnesses are those miserable pebbles,

whom I had launched with full strength and vigor

those were not stones, but jewels

vaguely remembered, like first crush in schools

Some of those gems are still in flight,

above that terrace, where we played day and night.

That terrace which has a rusty door

is now a portal to times before

Will there be Holi colors still on that wood?

Or that chalk dust from childhood?

Our Antakshari songs still echoing

in those walls, now decaying

Is someone still waiting

 in that narrow staircase?

with ink scribbled on paper, 

but message written on her face

That discarded ring, would yet be hidden

in that out-of-bound corner, still forbidden

I can't reach that terrace now,

some strangers now go and lock it.

 But it doesn't appear far to me, when

I find some pebbles in my pocket.

© Ankush Agarwal

02-Apr-2020