The wind blows in a light rain on the road
In gentle leaves waving the dawn to break.
Here I shall pass in the otherness of room
When the sea howls child fears in pockets
Filled with flowers plucked early morning
For worship, leaf by leaf, of gods in frames
On words uttered on trembling lips of other. Rooms are demolished like they of the sea
Lying in string cots as they stare at the roof
With sea memories of shells on the beach
Its snails walking slowly in crooked lines. The tea vendors of beach laugh like snails
Offering paper cups for your life’s worries.
Their footprints are demolished by waves
As soon as they are made, their paper cups
Swallowed by the sea in otherness of sea.
A loving parijat tree drops shy love-flowers
On its utter defeat, right outside my room.
Their death-smells enter holes of my room
Re-defining my room, its walls reinstated.