An Inconclusive meet

An Inconclusive meet

Uncrumpled, lifeless, lies my Saree on the bed,
A piece of fabric just undone,
Otherwise a treasure for me,
Had you undraped it, with eagerness and spice...

Unattended,...it now sits like a widow, parched, yet colourful..

The fragrance of my henna dyed hair too seems to have faded a bit,
For its failure to feel your fingers running through them,
Like a fully blossomed rose, just missed out on the customary visit of a honeybee.

Oh!  My Bindi! Still sits on my forehead,  unmoved,
Even as my image in the mirror... reminds me of the incredible pleasures of its otherwise displacement,
Had our bodies unified. 

This time around our rendezvous remains indeterminate,
Yet I cherish every bit of it,
Alas! For me there is delight, even in inconclusive meets. 

Rupa Chapalgaonkar

Fog of ignorance

Fog of ignorance 

Why blame the fog?

Mother nature's phenomenon becomes so despised!  

Indeed it is a man made vice, 

'Human' enough to take a human's life. 

Why blame the fog?  

As car's collide, temples of education shut down, little ones forced into confinement, 

Crisis declared as lungs bleed, 

Very much a man made deed!  

Why blame the fog? 

For basics was never a priority, 

For those who lead,

Be it the Capital or otherwise, 

Now, they too, become humans, 

As death knocks on their door, 

The kings find it difficult to breathe...

Why blame the fog?  

For the fog really is in our heads, 

It is the fog of ignorance, a self created abhorrence, 

An alarm for the race,

If they ever care for their trace....

Rupa chapalgaonkar