Pen, Paper, Chai


This is a poem written on a Sunday morning when I happened to get up early. I was with my chai in my balcony and the initial lines just began popping in. I rushed to get the Pen and Paper. The following Sunday was Valentine’s Day. I was waiting for a friend who had gone for tuitions. My roommates were still sleeping. And so I began to write what I saw and felt.

It’s a Sunday morning,
Cool February breeze,
And again, I sit in my balcony,
Watching the birds play and soar,
While I scribble through Delhi’s air.

It did rain last night,
Dullness swept,
Freshness breathed,
And yet, while the city sleeps,
There’s lots that’s happened.

The doodhwala has his stock nearly finished,
The housewives have taken over their kitchens,
The newspaper-boy sings his way home,
The park benches have seen more the other six days,
Oh! Yes, the coolies must have been at work for some time now.

Ah! Some tuitions are yet not done,
While some, still perplexed about the gifts, next Sunday,
And the bunch of those, who snore their way to brunch,
There still is a handful of us, who couldn’t be more carefree.
Oh wait! My chai is over, and it begins to rain again…

 

Pen, Paper, Chai

Pen, Paper, Chai

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