A morn, like autumn, like a festival,
Is like an autumn
The eastern side
Has put up a holy frame
A lighted golden,
By dreams so emboldened,
Like a day out with kids
To the place where last year
We one morn pigeons with corns did feed,
And perhaps caught a car straight
To go to a shop to buy for us some new dresses,
A capri for a little niece
A salwar piece...for another,
And a stray peacock green feather
To be worn by her,
my life's river...
'Will you not buy me a pair of jeans?'
'What about catching a movie at that hall?'
'No! We are going to eat a lot!'
'I would prefer a corner where we would just sit and relax...'
'Hey! Have you paid this year's professional tax?'
Conversations abrupt broke out
Then, as we walked, on the city streets...
The lanes and the alleys,
Passing by retail therapy mood,
An attitude, a mode,
A rowing of a country boat,
On a glitzy road,
Like an y/a story,
Autumn festive like that
This morn brings perhaps...
On the eastern side
As the morn breaks with joy...
And memories momentous
me just happily pass...