FINE PRINT

This love has grown mouldy,
Left neglected in the monsoon,
Got rusty with disuse.
Words tender and true at the time,
With stony silence now turned stale-
Our perfect symphony
Long decayed into cacophony,
Memories of Heaven before Hell do pale...
Worm-eaten dreams and cankerous vows-
So much for our garden-fresh love!

Delivered in a bright blue carton,
Bought at an exorbitant price,
From that cheerful chubby lad
In the store down the street;
Sigh! Our hard-earned time
Gone down the drain!

"Sorry, madam, I’m afraid nothing
Can be done about it," said the lad
Politely, cheerful as ever,
When the unsatisfactory product
I thrust on the counter.
"The affection, I agree, has curdled,
The happiness has rotten, the memories mouldy;
But the pain, the hurt, the bleeding wound,
Are still so fresh, as we promised."

Cursing myself, I returned dejected-
I should have read the fine print
On that bright blue carton
Of garden-fresh love.

Guest Post on Shravan's Blog (Ephemeral Eternity)

Shravan is a fellow-blogger my best friend introduced to me- a very creative guy brimming with intensely original and innovative ideas.I was quite taken aback- I mean, pleasantly surprised- when he asked me to do a guest post on his blog. It was indeed an honour... Thank you Shravan! To see the post i contributed, click here