Whisper of solace.

Whisper of solace

It is not a day of tourism ,
nor a commercial encounter where
deadly deals and no dealings
appear and disappear like clouds,
clouds weaving myriad gathering
pictures of woes and romping romances.
The populous city wears Summer’s
unbeatable heat ,melting tar
on the road glitters ,sticky, hot ;
you reach home in the wrong time
of all conniving power failure;
you are not querulous, only
buckets of water come to your rescue,
not a soup water is a mere solution.
Soul goes to the background when
Pulsating body already sweating
Needs double washing.
wind rustles through unruffled grills ,
Balcony and open terrace , garden of terracotta ,
Stones , not whispering of Love’s lure,
Directions from all sides , to this
directionless hankering after,
whisper of solace to this
whimpering ,whining, self.