Her kajal has a wave-like curve,
And his childish ego is a sea-rock,
Their sea is a blind world,
Their sea is a mute song,

The old love song of night and day,
When dead leaves of an old tree,
And the stars of an old world, can be seen,

When memory is a guide,
When hollow dreams of vengeance are seen,
When the world is bitter as hell,
And love is heaven as well,

Mere ghosts, mere men,
The world is too big for them,
The heart is too thin
A tributary. A thing,
Or two, to think
In the light of the gravestone,

Their story has a tragic end,
And their song has a twin
In the present,
When jealous moments
Bring them close together,

Drowning in a shallow sleep,
They’ve come closer to each other,
Eyes of rock and sea meet,
And voices are heard,

The stars are seen once again,
The trees of time can be touched,
The sea waves crash on strangers’ forms,
I hear the old love song.

…

Ritwik is a writer and actor living in Mumbai. He is studying as well. He believes in good, like an ancient scripture on a wall of divide. He likes going on walks, in the hope of doing what he will.