Sometimes it happens
that I feel
the wind burn my
cheek for a moment and
a cluster thought gets tangled in
the khus durrie and the cool darkness
of an afternoon glance.

Enmeshed in your fragrance
I suddenly touched the heat outside.

Sometimes it happens that
another afternoon turns berserk
forcing opening
doors, windows
chasing roads
running in chameleon
circles and a wayward belief
scaling fortress walls
ahead of your
brushing lips.

Sometimes it happens
that we peep through a
cracked endurance of a Gwalior summer
sorting reflections
in time and heritage
and myriads of moments
from a vantage point
against a creeping

  – Dr. Amitabh Mitra
June 1, 2003