walking through tombs … … …


bicycle rides to ancient tombs, stealthily traversing the bygone years,

those days and nights of delhi long ago, plucked heartstrings, a sitar being tuned, the cricket matches in the park, fetching the ball from monuments to long dead sultans, and rajah’s,

feasting on a masala-dosa, my bike chained to the rusty pole next to the paan-wallah,

downing numberless cups of cardamom chai, in between home and school, bunking classes to catch Madhuri’s “ek doh teen” song in a bollywood flick, sitting amongst the people, singing along in days and nights that used to be so full, so long,

now just a fading memory, of diwalis at the kumars, and eid feasts at home, intermingling with splashes of holi colour,

a synthesis of cultures, of faiths, of friends transcending caste and creed,

a delhite whistling beatles’ songs,

ah yes, nostalgia that sly deceiver,

be mine again, come to me in rain-swept monsoon nights, lit by a million diyas of softly flickering lights,

wear your kaleidoscope dress,

rekindling memories,

stay with me,

my eternal, evergreen, seductive princess.