Remember the moon that night?
Burning with all its might and beauty,
with a strange neighbourly expression.
Like she was your confidante,
who could peep into your heart anytime
and play that nostalgic game of hide-n-seek.
I could never fathom these smirks and hushed exchanges.
They were cryptic, probably hieroglyphic.
To be so unmindful and foolish,
when the air was swollen with prophecies,
like the proverbial lull before the storm.
And I oblivious of the lurking fate,
marveled at the swaying gulmohars
and the pristine, ethereal moon!
Where was my insight?
My sixth sense, which I was once so proud of?
Where was my heart...
Surely I had it tucked in somewhere safe,
and not just strewn morsels of it on the deserted road
to be trampled on by known and unknown prejudices.
Sure, there it was.