Sunday, June 12, 2011

Sunday

This is not about
honing your heart’s survival instincts.

Not about brimstone, lip-numbing kisses
or sheets constantly shifting shape.

This is about the eyes of a wife
watch the twilight door open and
see a husband and not a lover.

This is about that compromise.

About practiced devotion.
The urge to domesticate passion.

Eyes of the wife falls from
the door to the fingers of her hand.
It’s been a lonely day.

8 comments:

  1. I enjoyed this a lot. It speaks loudly and it's incredibly relevant.

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  2. One reads your poems and learns how to write beautiful poetry.

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  3. Dear Ashotosh. First, congratulations. Have only read your latest poem and glanced through the rest. The poem is beautiful. It got me at once. You write very well. Your writer mother should be rightfully proud of you.
    Try writing something in Hindi. I would love to publish a few pieces on a few worldly topics written in the first person. Experience-based.
    Best wishes
    Rahul Dev

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  4. @Nasim and Aniket: Thanks for the kind words guys. Heartfelt appreciation from friends is what keeps me going.

    @Rahul-ji: Bahut aacha lagaa aap mere blog par aaye. I don't write as well in Hindi, but i'm working on that gradually. If i do write something worthwhile in Hindi, i'll definitely get in touch with you. Thanks!

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  5. Read your blog after a long time. How can you choose the perfect words every time! Reading this made me appreciate that good writers find beauty and irony even in small unnoticeable things in life.

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  6. lovely words...nicely crafted lines!

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