Hyderabad 500012
Filed Under (Poem)
The quiet summer afternoons,
the stillness of the atmosphere,
punctuated by the tick tock of the clock,
the calm whirring of the fan,
the twittering of the birds,
and the shrill honk of the autorickshaws.
Nothing to interrupt my time of solitude,
as I bask in the warm afternoon sunshine,
with my magazine strewn across my lap,
waiting to be read,
while the reader stares blankly into the sky.
I can make out some familiar faces in the sky,
one cloud reminds me of me, and another,
resembling a damsel waiting to be found, drifts away lazily.
I divert my gaze over to nearby terraces,
briefly pausing upon the pretty girl in red,
moving to the monkeys leaping across rooftops,
before resting on the gentle sway of trees far away.
My serenity is rudely broken,
I hear my phone ringing,
Ignoring it, I shut my eyes,
and enjoy the sounds of this glorious land,
a land I’m proud to call home.
- Kishor Krishnamoorthi
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