The wait.....

He was waiting,
looked at his watch,
his phone...
Nothing.
Looked at the sky,
the moon was static,
clouds drifted aimlessly.
It rained all day,
he looked down.
Cars ran across the drenched streets.
A couple seemed to be arguing over something.
He was drenched. He was waiting. Nothing happened.
Looked at his watch, time ticked away.
"What the hell"..he screamed...
He was stuck on the terrace
One could only come up...there was no way down.
He continued to wait...
The wet shirt sat on his cold, icy skin.
He tried to sleep.
May be, may be tomorrow the wait will be over. He fell asleep.
Scathing rays of the sun, swarming flies woke him up.
He looked at his watch...time ticked away,
picked up his phone..no calls. Battery was dying.
There was no shade on the naked terrace
Day long he fought the sun, the flies..
In the evening, it started to rain.
Lashing rain pierced his skin.
There was no shade, no place to hide.
The phone had stopped working, so was his watch...
He lost track of time.
Threw away the phone...
Leaned against the parapet and waited..
After a few days, they found the body..leaning against the parapet, eyes open...
still waiting....

My Father....

My father ..

He lived his life

I watched him live it

My father.

Never said it's time to sleep,

instead he showed me the stars

told me how to touch them.


My father

Never held me when I cried

his silence spoke in thousand voices.

He bought me toys

then cigarettes,.

then my first bottle of whiskey.

My first second-hand car,

we pushed it together.


I sat on his shoulders,

held up the flaming torch,

watching the red sun setting

behind the Marxist stage.

My father - he was a communist,

yet taught me how to pray,

he believed in revolution,

but told me not to wait for it .


My father

He did not know how to dream

He learnt to dream through us.
.