my blue one, in your gloating.
because i stand here smitten
by you smelling of juhi flowers.
all you had to do is ask.
you know i would leave everything
and show up at your doorstep,
windblown hair, heart on my sleeve,
hungry to see your smile.
i'm easy, you think,
gullible even,
malleable, like silly putty.
and still you weave an elaborate plot
have the ticket clerks in not one
but three multiplexes
tell me friday first shows are all booked!
making me believe,
i am lucky to simply walk up to your temple.
you think i don't know your tricks?
you think i don't know how much
you're missing me?
how much you need me
to be standing here,
looking slightly foolish,
and so totally lovelorn?
all you had to do is ask.
btw. you look good even in pink.
2 comments:
guess what? i too went to iskon on sunday, with four folk singers. they had to catch a train at 5 45, and the temple opened at 4 15. i was hurrying them up, and i told them strictly, 'no arti sharti. only darshan, and then we are out.' they agreed, but the blue one, in black in banglore, had other plans.
the villagers, the folk singers, were singing krishna bhajans all through the torturous one hour we had to queue up, least concerned about missing the train. finally, at 5 30, i gave up . i called up prayas and told him to expect four men in pagdis in our home if we didn't make it to the station.
but the train was late, and we made it, we even bought tulsi malas for all of us. :)
Hi Manisha,
I just finished reading Betelnut Killers and it was by far the most random/hilarious Indian book that I have read.
Its something my sister picked up when she was living Mumbai (apparently shes met you).
I hope you keep on writing! Maybe a sequel?
Cheers.
Ahamed Nizar
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