Once in a while , sitting by this huge window
I eavesdrop these winds ,gossiping as they blow
Carving their way out of my frustatingly tousled ringleted locks
They narrate stories of far-off countries and folks ,
Of Titanic doodling over that mocktailed sea
And how Jack gave wings to Rose on that love-hued April eve
If only the heartless waves were not drunken that night
He’d wish her mornings everyday ,sitting by the bedside .
Sometimes these winds whisper about the ‘four and half decades’ aged Cold War,
Of whirlpool of blood and cannon balls
I wonder if they were fighting over marbles or barbie dolls ?
Or if the soldiers cried when the blood spewed out of bullet holes ?
Last night , they laughed out Shakespeare ‘s comedy
How Malvolio dressed in yellow stockings looked bizarre !
And what made the bards praise the cosmic north star ?
And how would Sylvia feel if she smashed out of her bell jar ?
Again I am sitting here , by the window overhearing them ,
Flaunt their surreal ventures to Lilliput and Bethlehem
These eternal gossip queens descant a million stories no one hears
We just need to sit silently , once in a while and lend them ears .
The bubbly Bhawana Yadav in the frame . Picture credits : Arti Kushwaha