Saturday, August 23, 2014


I have within me,
the heart of a gypsy,
A lust for the dusty roads,
A hunger for strange faces,
Soft pleasantries don't strike me,
Comforts don't swell my soul,
Only the warm wind
on my sun stained eyes,
The tiny pieces of mirror
showcasing a broken world on my dupatta...

Perhaps I might earn a name,
For a heart that always yearns,
Delighting young children,
Vexing adults who stare at me with suspicion,
What do they know,
I only pick the rags of life,
And make shameless love to outcastes alone,
While the night lends us her guarding eyes,
Conversing silently with the stars,
Throwing all caution to the winds...

I have within me the heart of a gypsy,
Roaming in deserts, straying in the backyards of civilisation,
Keeping no trinkets as souvenirs,
Owned by no one, owning nothing,
The eternal face smiling at you
from the back of a magazine....

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