1 min read

loss in Love is

like the aftermath of a

north indian wedding.

jarring silence.

the workers, at their own

pace, run brooms across

the dirty verandah.

a bitter aftertaste remains

in the air of the disunion.

two people, uninterested,

take off the redundant fairy lights

in the morning sun

as chacha, equally uninterested,

drinks his herbal tea.

crows peck at the leftovers

strewn about on the terrace.

the people who were gossiping

yesterday are sound asleep

yet there is an uncanny

feeling of dilapidation.

lost Love, like the aftermath

of a north indian wedding,

is a feeling of emptiness

and tiredness,

with residues of what once was.

Hanzala Mojibi is a poet and writer from a literary background. He believes in some serious things like voicing the voiceless; and some non-serious things like the crunching of dead leaves healing the soul. You can find him strolling under peepals in Delhi winters.

* The email will not be published on the website.