poetry

Once upon a time in Mumbai …

Every morning
He walked past her,
Watering Tulsi outside on the balcony
A young man,
Curly haired, long face, wore shoes
With a denim jacket and white pants
With his bullet
Rose colored lens
He lived in the 70s while we walked into 90s
She was a woman in 30s she looked like
she just stepped into the 20s
Her modest sarees clad body
Don’t let that fool you
Until you see her, Kohl lined eyes
Or till you see her through his sight

He’d park his bike, at a perfect angle
To get a second glance
Of her face
She looked at him whenever he didn’t
But somewhere both waited for
The morning
For that one moment of scandal
In their otherwise sober life

She turns left,
He changes his side to the right
Every night
The restlessness, the weird pull
The tension of the summer rain
Looming over humid skies
The temptation was so irresistible
Through their eyes
Her husband paid her attention
Now in money, and
Somedays when he wanted a child
He was a single soul
Vagabond, shy, women found him attractive
But he was just a grown child

Every sunrise
Bought them together
As he passed by, her body came alive
Some electric forces pulled them together
As she climbed her stairs
And he was running down
And they almost crashed into each other
She smiled
He was sly
Her husband walked past them
As if he was never alive
With her

Straightens her saree
As he flicks his curls
He descends over her
As she steps down
Probably, along down from
What defines her

He pins her to the wall,
At the corner of the spiral staircase
It was a rainy morning
Surprise thunderstorms rocked the earth
While he placed his hand beside her head
And with the other
He roved o’er his neck
She traced her fingers on his lips
Her soft, firm movements
She made music on them

The young boy could take no more
He wasn’t ever touched this way
No one ever felt him away
He proceeded closer with his eyes
Rolled to the sky
He covered his mouth
As he looked at her for a while
He flicked his hand through the end
Of her face
Way down, swirling over her neck
And she closed her eyes
Her Kohl kept him awake
He’d never sleep again

He kissed her hand
She kissed her hand
Lips fought them to reach each other
But her beautiful hand
Was now damp
From the leaky roof, droplets from the rain
Hit her forehead and slipped down
He traced them on her nose
When they reached her lips
Her hand came off
And they kissed
While his nails etched her waist

Her saree slipped through the shoulder
He placed his hand in between
The rain poured like
An unexpected stranger
Droplets trickled down her face
Quenching then
All those thirsts filled nights
Sleepless touching themselves
Her touch felt his fire
His feel was ice
As they were about to burn in desire

Her toddler,
Called her out,
She freed herself from his hold
And returned home
While he walked into the rain
And rode his bike

Monsoons were beginning.

The photo was used from Pinterest.com.

1 thought on “Once upon a time in Mumbai …”

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