SHADE OF LOVE

 We wait for you yearlong, come to give us the

mischievous green grins, smiley blue hugs, moisty red handshakes,
bright pink cheeks and peepy orange chins.
Each colour's multiple owners cloaked in sprightly shades of confusion.
A hotchpotch of chuckles and giggles paint roads and homes
no pause for sweetshops till machines,
the beams of online shopping sites and shops.

The five-year-old naming colours of her recognition
the toothless riot on grandpa's moustache
grandma's moist eyelashes in kitchen lost,
in bucket splashes on friends of college days
sweet aromas decked on bowls shared with friends and family.
Friends smeared with hues of invisible attachments.
Each Indian family a lavish palette for painter's canvas,
a smile on sun's lips for this new colourful global patch

Egos washed, pains and cramps dissolved,
the festival of Holi, a welcome knock for every Indian door.

A PASSING YEAR

Gentle tap of the family of even four

the constant twenty dusts 

wintery dew on cold chairs

twenty-twenty four a new guest

baggage of three-sixty-five days 

mingled thoughts of seven billion

another year of seasonal spice.

wintery nails scrape the door

remind numbered days to slip by

the cold stretch narrows 

bartered degrees fluff global warming 

scorching summer emotions 

in queue drain multiple moods

ice-creams and colas coat plastic thirst

symphony of fans and airconditioners 

drown heated egos.

drops on roofs somewhere, cars afloat elsewhere

well-rehearsed rains invade houses, fields and alleys

it knows no name.

Countries play musical chair with hesitation.

Flowers bloom, fields dance, some farmers agitate

governments crease brows over farmed tea and wheat biscuits

tunnels, alleys underneath fields shriek of silent horrors

echoes mutilated under armoured tanks

desolate walls holed with decorations

inmates shrunk in dungeons below

sirens, raids replace music.

Holed walls with no breath for company

snow and mice caricature ruins

egos unwilling for a break

A trimester over, nine more months to go

one breath of freedom for all

Is the past an amnesia for mankind? 

Mankind lost in new romance

ChatGPT and AI, the new bed fellows.

Enough, pleads and laments the poor year.