Neither a sister, nor a
daughter,
Nor any one by blood you are.
Yet my sorrow never sleeps.
Never a tryst, nor a
rendezvous,
Nor an innuendo, you granted.
Yet my sorrow never sleeps.
Glamour, splendor, or
pretext,
You never played to
gravitate.
Yet my sorrow never sleeps.
Formidable and forbidden you
were.
Sojourn was so short.
Parting was abrupt and
aborting.
Yet my sorrow never sleeps.
Every beginning has an end.
An episode should, however,
end.
But abortion and usurpation?
Maybe, by a boon I’ll see you
soon.
That can retrieve our past
monsoon.
But the crop is already gone.
So my sorrow never sleeps.
Time was over before I could
score.
No more game is set up in the
court.
That is why my sorrow never
sleeps.
With your parting, came to an
end
All my springs and monsoons.
Let my sorrow never sleep.
It is better than insomnia.
08.05.2001, Pmdi
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