Another year of cakes and wishes and chocolates and warmth.
Again a bunch of resolutions to be uttered to consciences, for reference at the U-turns of life.
A journal of nightmares to be ignited at 12,
A cassette of merry to be played in recurrence.
Palms peeping from woolen sweaters,
Eyes glittering at the sight of Shells, as mighty as the stars in our 3rd grade's drawing books.
No more a white sheet from a Pioneer copy
To be folded into a card,
No more the anticipation to reach classroom on 2nd of January with bag full of New Year cards.
A labyrinth misleading.
A poem misinterpreted.
A mondegreen for a song.
Emotions to binge on.
Pristine gardens of dahlias -
Paragon of elation and a loop to be met next winter.
Daisies to return to the lane, soon.
No more chapters to be finished
No more yearly exams to excel.
Chapped lips will whisper love
At some tea stall.
No decoration of the soma,
No moisture for the inept lover.
New gush of blood on roads and borders,
New wounds on nerves
To dye fictions and histories
Red, Blue and Purple.
History, a slave to you and me
Will be written again.