Et cetera...

One more of a sleepless night.

The timekeeper calls midnight.

The cigarette ceases to exist
Severely lacking life.

The pitch black sky of a new moon night
A few grains of shimmer,off the pale halogen.

Amongst what remained of the long dead dreams
They are my hard-earned stipend.

Beyond the fairy tale of love,is written
The story of a real-life romance.

In the pseudo-hectic city life
They are my et cetera...








The fairy of Victoria,she stands still
Tired of her routined life.

At a distance,one could walk
Tagore looks on,the flyover.

Bits of poetry,here and there
Born off the crystal dew drops.

Somewhere,unnoticed,lies
The peeled skin of a love-story.

In the black and white of the city
They are my et cetera...







All,that remained,of privacy,finds
The banner at the busy crossing.

At the length of real and reality
One more story is penned.

Amidst the unfamiliar crowd of a bus
A scent,I knew very well.

At the end of a broken dream,begins
One more of the same affair.

In the intimacies of the city
They are my et cetera.....