It was so akward, destiny - chance & what not! ..was playing. An old paper -torn & lifeless perched on the table, a buzz & sweet memories of yellow lilies all haunted me at once- I stopped breathing I think, before I could reply ....to being called Rohi... Who is it?
Up 4 a guess game ?
Duno mind.. I wish I never had to play that. My obvious guess and best guess would belittle me infront of Sandy. She had been a real sport all way from the yellow lilies to pink trumpet creepers to red roses.

The entire past flashed right there, before I could key Is it Anji!!!
She stayed right across the street, I think I was in my Senior Year then. I had spent days wondering what talking to her would be watching quietly through the eyehole. The glossy lips, the dark brown flowing hair, the tanned complexion -- all in one sneek out of her door and disappear from the wide angel of my key hole.
I wished if something could be common ......
buzz the yellow lillies ...red roses...it all blurred Yes Dear, Still you can sense when I am there!..how odd

From the window of a train:


The sun has set down
Blue-Yellow-red is the nature's gown
Pebbles, Pebbles and only pebbles
Are there when you look down
Running rails- parrys the downcast wind
A handicap - hauling things right behind
Was enough for me to remind
The sun didn't set down
Blue; Red; Yellow are only her gown

Besides the door
Rght the very first window
Is where I have my seat
To the rythmn of the train , the heart beat
With half dead men I was surround

Gazing eyes, twinkling lashes
Were they carrying someone's ashes
Eyes petrified
As if somone died

Wasn't I coming strong
To Hell with --
My wishes -- they didn't belong

But why do I look inside?
When I have the window
- For its dark outside
And its bright inside
But
Littered is the floor inside
Serene is the ground outside
From the window of a train
TO look outside - is a matter of brain
Event at night
When light is light
For distances there's nothing bright
Time comes when distance is bright
With plensty and plenty of light
Then why to look inside
For Littered is the floor inside

A hour has passed
And its difficult to make out
Barren, brazen is the land
But there's a star in the distant land
Moving right ahead the train
- I see- from the window of a train
It seems as if its our guide
To rules of almighty we abide
Lofty are our ideals
But ideals are like stars
Up alone in the sky
So its for you to decide
You wish to be the lights outside
Grouped together, flocked together
To be bright - as together
Or the stars as a guide
To whose wishes many abide
Lost in the question I look inside
Still littered is the floor inside
Right diagonal by the passage
Sits someoone sending out a message
For a particular work I have been send
To give your neck a little bend
Do look inside
For its betten than outside
For littered is not the floor
It's the reminiscence
Of the bad food you eschewed
Of the good people you viewed
.............................
.........................
Destination is near
The trains on the bridge
.................
Tranquil is the river
Serene is the weaver
Who weaved so well
Few threads up, few down
Giving nature the colorful gown

Pop, the message window opened, the person at the other end refered to me as Rohi..a name very few people called me at college. I reached for a book I was reading yesterday...thud the Oxford English dictitionary fell off my table -- a small folded paper fell on the floor too.