It was a seasonal wind
that blew away the portrait on wall, leaving it astray
In last rains, these walls were not as wet,
I wonder why, this time, it is damp?
It has cracked
And it flows down as, tear flows down a dry face
These rains used to sing on this rooftop,
It would leave messages on the windowpanes,
Now it sits out throwing its childish tantrums, outside these closed windows
Come Noon, it is like Chess Set with no pieces in it
Neither anyone to make his move,
Neither comes day, nor night dawns,
Everything has stopped
What a seasonal wind it was
that blew away the portrait on wall, leaving it astray?
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