Dad years

I who was once mere boy lost years
Of a boy dad , not good to stay alive

Now a mere head , black and white,
Staring from 1940’s old boys’ space.

I old man have lost many dad years ,
As he was not good at staying alive.

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Wall flowers

The air is not heavy with their fragrance
But might have been into the late night

When we had gone to sleep over them.
Their fragrance spreads only after sleep

And some time enters our sleep quietly
As if they are blooming  night’s garden.

They are wall flowers that can be smelt
Only in the higher reaches of the night.

Scattered

The jewel of a girl
Is not a whole girl

Because she held
The key to jewels.

She needs Vishnu.
She lies scattered.

(This is about a recent incident of murder of a ten year old girl by her step-mother’s brothers in the wake of fears of her father bequeathing all his property to her at the cost of her step-brothers)