Many a mornings i plucked fragile n fragrant PARIJAT for her with great care,
One morning she trampled upon them with scorn n glee…
the fragments n fading fragrance remain in my painful memory !
Many a afternoons i brewed TEA for her with great care n served delicately in China,
One afternoon she put poison of her deceit in my cup….
This poison circulates forever in my veins !
Many a days we wrote n read the NOTEBOOK of love together,
One day she tore it up and threw the torn pages away….
The words mock me mournfully !
Over the years we built the BRIDGES and crossed them hand-in-hand time n again,
She burnt the Bridges n threw the ashes to the winds…..
I ran after it and collected a handful, crestfallen n ashen-faced !
Now i love Parijat, Tea, Notebook and Bridges more….
Coz they remind me of her treachery !
