Sunday, February 13, 2011

Last few days at A


Living on a tree house
With birds as the closest neighbors
My clothes dry on branches
And leaves ruffle with the opening door
Sunlight brightens the room
And moon lights the evening candles
Wind flows through windows
And sways everything along
Wakening of lizards tells summer is here
And small bats sometimes blindly crash
Crows are the roosters for me
And parrots are the colorful band
I raise my hand and catch few leaves
I blow a whistle and puppies I see
The red bricks feel so raw
Just like the untamed animal in me
Who doesn’t know which color it wants
But has possibility of being colored in every color possible
I jump under the shadow of big white balloon
And find my own full moon in it every single night
I take an evening walk at midnight
And pat the purring cat as it passes by
First step on Harvard steps and
you can smell the spring scent coming from the mango tree

The walls stand tall no matter what you are going through
They are there..To bang ur head against when tortured, to lean against when sad
To touch them slowly when amused, to look at them and smile when glad
Room 319 will be a testimony to what all I went through
‘Anu Dogra was here’ is what you’ll see on its walls, mirror and door
I came to this place to find a drop and what I got was a flood
In that flood, I lost a lot and found much more
The chaff got washed away and shining gems are all I am left with
One keeps carrying a sack with years of burden in it
And a flood once in a while is needed to rearrange that weight
Its not easy to see that sack being ripped apart and all belongings being thrown up and down 
To see your ferociously saved knick knacks being lost in a moment
But in the end its right and nothing else matters
So here I am back on the tree house
A place where I smiled frequently , loved passionately,
hated angrily, laughed madly and wondered endlessly
last few days left and God! Why these crows can’t sleep even at midnight??

No comments: