She had a cone of vanilla,
her flame red tongue darting out
every time she savoured it,
And he had a scoop of strawberry
which he devoured leisurely
in between her whispers and giggles.
The man at the counter bided his time.
puffing on a cigar and stroking his beard.
The channel poured forth
a soothing sonata.
I went on sipping my lemonade.
A sense of ‘dejavu’ getting into me.
The cat saunters in as if from nowhere
I see it getting under their table
The girl lets out a shriek and jumps up
the boy gets up with a start
the man drops his cigar.
I have forgotten my lines.
Tender mango leaves swayed
above our heads as we stood,
our fingers entwined
your breath caressing my ear
inhaling in the smell of hay
that still lingered on your hair.
The waves lapped on our feet
as I buried my face
on your heaving bosom.
A playful breeze rustled the leaves
I gently fondled your fullness,
the heat of summer
simmering in my loins.
Every day ends leaving its own debris.
Like a little boy after a heady vacation,
I hasten to gather souvenirs from it
May be I need a daily dose of delusions
Other than a crumpled newspaper.
It doesn’t scare us- this virtual reality.
We got our ‘maya’
to take care of that.
You see the Murthys and Swamys
taking silicon valley by storm.
It’s kid stuff – all this cyber-talk
Shankara must be laughing in the heavens
Or surfing in pure ‘Advaita’.