apple blossom mornings
of march tinted in aromatic sighs
emanating from tea leaves’ nostrils,
were favored in gold-pink sweetness
of gujhias deep fried
in mother’s kitchen of magic.
festival of colors
lurked round the corners
of days laved in lukewarm honey,
as seen in scarlet laughter
of blazing flames of the forest,
peppered on dewy grass blades.
affection was ground and kneaded
into delicious dreams
on gas stoves and in oven wombs,
paste of dry fruits and saffron blending
in the boiling fluidities of milk
to scent throats of chilled glasses,
as sidewalks and walks awaited
graffiti splashes in anticipation,
to color their bleak realities.
spices romanced jack fruits
into curried delights,
platters of china fragilities preened
adorned in sumptuous delicacies,
sweets competed with each other to lure
drooling tongues with their charms,
the beauty of spring forgotten
in the redolent whispers
echoing from the ardent kitchen.
summer hovered on sidelines
with ripeness of golden mangoes
and sweltering gasps of a wrathful sun,
but often the day of vibrant hues
was peppered in whimsy of spring showers
drenching mischievous hopes
of splattering colors on mellow daylight.