Memoir

Hands of clock’s tick ran faster than his time

We stole moments

And the drizzle made our heartbeats race

A current wave ran into my veins

When your fingers crawled into mine

I rushed home that noon,

To be portraying him in the little memoir.

At night the fishermen lullabies…

‘He holds her hand,

Both sat by the Ghats of Siang

Sound of the river like a melody

The air carried their fragrance till far

The boy loved the girl all his life.’