ARYAN SPEAKS: THE HOUSE WITH THE CLOSED WINDOWS..


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On the road which turns left,

Is the house with the closed window..

 

But the window wasn’t closed always..

Somewhere in the distant childhood,

In  the cold wet mornings and warm sunny days,

The pans were open as wide as they could..

 

And through the peepal leaves, green and round,

Making the singing n swooshing sound ,

Swaying with the winds kissing the skies,

You could see a pair of eager eyes..

 

And lips with a smile, wily yet sweet,

A voice as tender as a sparrow’s tweet..

Could be heard while passing through that lane..

Pure as dew and vivid as rain

 

But that one day the peepal was cut

And the very next day the window was shut,

The eyes were gone and so was the sound,

And no wily smile was anymore around..

 

And  years have passed since that fall,

I forgot the tree the smile and all..

 

But don’t know why,  I can’t let it  go..

That on the road which turns left,

Is the house with the closed window..

 

– Me (22/07/2013)

5 thoughts on “ARYAN SPEAKS: THE HOUSE WITH THE CLOSED WINDOWS..

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