waiting.jpg

There was certain degree of familiarity between us. We were not lovers, but our hearts.
I still remember how the moment winced with a sweet pain when I left a message for him on the board fixed at the red wall.
At times, I used to wonder who else would have read the message much before he walked in, leant against the wall and left one more message for me sealed with a kiss.
Next time, when I am there, I wanted to settle for a nap near the post-box at the broken gate.
.mgroadpromenade.jpg Letters, no longer, were dropped in the post-box where the grass grows wilder.
I wanted to check with the bougainvillea and its shadows creeping onto the wall,
terrace.jpg who rambles through this countryside.
Sometime ago, a few photographs were exchanged across the gentle slopes of those hedges.
One of them had the boy with his friends. He was beaming straight at the man who caught him with his tribe.
Someone found me dropping smiles on the table. No one saw who touched my smiles after I left the restaurant?
Sure, the world was looking at a pair of hopeful hearts, cheerful feet, walked away from the crowds.
Took the muddy track that starts between walls, rising behind which, are light fragrant airy clusters. 

I used to love that. The signboard, under the climbers blooming with little roses. Reflecting on lovers walking past it in the falling dusk.
And for those speechless moments, at the mere sight of her lover, the bench in that corner, as usual, used to come as a rescue.
Here and now – as I sit outside waiting for the red bus, the last meeting when I said Goodbye to him, came strolling by heavy with the fragrance of little roses.
Nowhere to hide from the fact, numbed, I stand in the waving grasses of realization.
I suddenly find no reason to board the red bus, which would vanish in the silent stretches of highway and would chug up the rolling hills, after many brief stops at not so familiar sleepy towns.
I have nothing to say to them who stare at me from the bus. Those calm and placid foreign faces.

{2nd Pic : Stairs on MG road promenade, which were destroyed by an excavator this evening. 3rd Pic : The creeper on our terrace….as captured by my Nokia-N series} 

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