The spiral of tobacco fumes
Like a constellation in sky
A halo toppled over his head
While the man on the table
Casually polished tonight
Blind to the choice placed
Continues to order repeatedly
To fill his diminished sight
Amidst the flicker of mind
The emptiness of overflowing spread
His plate is still clean but empty
A replica of full moon tonight
While distant eyes from behind hedges
Await spots on this prolonged
shine.
He impatiently awaits a response
Of an unsent text that is not typed
Still scribbled within his turbulence
It erupts every short anxious while
Then he flashes on his giant screen
The smaller forbidden fonts
The impatient weight of emptiness
And the zig zag patterns of privacy
Intertwine to knit this deadlock
That swells from margins
To inundate the very protagonist.
Now he gives up
For there is no response
To something not expressed
Out of fear of non response
The vicious spiral reverberates
Amidst dead silence of speech
And profound din within .
The unearned tip he leaves behind
Weaves a memorable evening
For one who laid the table
The debris of an evening he bequeaths
Is devoured behind the hedges
With gratitude for a spotless moon
It is a feast tonight for many souls
Who thank that someone turned up
For hours on a table with an intent
But had nothing to eat and much to do.
Delhi
19.37 hrs
22.4.23
2061
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