a sunday memory

a sunday memory





the day was many hued
like a layered pattachitra painting.
with visits to a handloom exhibition, an art gallery, an ancient museum
and snacks at an old bakery that still uses coal and mud stove for baking.
a beautiful palette of art, craft, food and history.

now night’s comes, pristine as white.
i lay in bed, resting my eyes in its placid depths
and inside, scenes and stories from the day
find their place between my folds.

. . .

sunday midnight
the twenty third
pauṣa

No comments:

Post a Comment



let my thoughts come to you
when I am gone
like the afterglow of sunset
at the margin of starry silence
- rabindranath tagore -