Perfectly preserved and fine, they were their own cheer.
The label said do not break.
I broke it, and it didn’t even ache.
It’s weird how my room becomes a universe of its own at nights.
Nights when crickets come out and stars hide.
Nights when the wind panders and dreams ride.
Nights when owls stare and devils abide.
Devils who are not on the list.
Forgotten and never kissed.
I got lost.
The bed and balcony sky apart.
The giggles blew past me.
Some of it rubbed on the Ashok Tree.
The neighborhood slept thank god.
A giggling tree?
They would find it odd.
The tree laughed through the night and the crickets joined.
Joined the esraj playing marching band.
And road full of marigold.
Joined the Devils never kissed.
And the dawn granted a kiss.
The Devil broke his heart loving
and counted it a bliss.
What anguish come may,
The Devil and I, we say,
We’ll take feeling broken,
over feeling nothing any day.
