i have been running away from myself,
since evening,hiding alone,
and hiding my loneliness,
thinking,bewildered,slightly scared,
quietly locked inside my room,
like a child scolded without fault,
formulating and dissecting some unfamiliar questions,
looking out of the window,
on to the half expanse of the sky,
which looks back at me,and yet ignores me..it wasn’t always lonely,
and these questions were not always there,
once it used to rain here,
and there used to be rainbows,
like the rain would preening herself,
wearing multicoloured bangles,
weaving dreams of an unknown beloved,
and i used to walk in the rain,
hearing your voice in the patter of the raindrops,
looking where ever water flowed,
watching your reflection.
once the season was the season of dreams…don’t know where the rains are lost now,
the dry earth has grown bitter,
those trees outside are not green any long,
and inside..the life has gone out of the breath.
now i just watch the curtains,
on windows that never open,
and the odour of rains is lost,
replaced by half-burnt cigarettes,
and those dreams…….

sometimes i wonder,
why i do not ask myself now,
that why doesn’t it rain,these days,
and why i run away from myself,
creating smokescreens,
walls of words,
beyond which i do not have to see,
but which suffocate me..

words are assasins,
and liars too,
and these things have no meaning now.
rains in january can only be cold.

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