Inhumed in Rumi and You

Old unread books
Tucked far away in the wooden cabinet
Dust piled up like memories
I tied my hair
Assimilated the fragments of courage -
From our shiny past
And stepped towards it
I opened it and picked your favorite
You recited Rumi's poetry from it
While I stared at your expression
My head on your chest
Ceiling fan blowing our cotton curtains
Every Sunday ended as a chapter of my book
That book celebrates neither you, nor me
It holds the sand that passed through the hourglass
And turned into gold
After your left 'forever'
I treasured that gold
Left these books unattended
Today as I held your favorite book
It mocked me
It is buried under the dust
And, I am still covered in the earth
That blew after I buried you

Image Source - Here


  1. Wow! Brilliant n beautiful :). "It holds the sand that passed through the hourglass" :)

  2. Enchanting years passed! Nicely written!

  3. Beautifully written and so deep !

  4. magical poem, beautifully written

  5. "It holds the sand that passed through the hourglass
    And turned into gold" Profound! Such a beautiful composition, Saru!

  6. Beautiful words..holy grain of truth spelled with so much power and emotions. I love his quotes:)

  7. That was a beautiful composition Saru, touching the harsh reality of life!

  8. What a heart-wrenching verse... loved the emotions encapsulated in it <3

  9. You have a way with words! Loved it!

  10. Impeccable, it touched the right chords of the heart <3

  11. Plaintive yet beautiful. It's like nudging the already healed wound.

  12. So lovely words

  13. Soulful. Thats all I can say. Mocking memories, personified things.

  14. Beautiful Lovely written...
    Recent Post शब्दों की मुस्कराहट पर कुछ अधूरी सी कवितायेँ पुरानी डायरी के पन्ने:)

  15. wonderful Rumi is my favorite

  16. Reading this poem stirs inexplicable emotions. Great.

  17. @Everyone - Thank you so much for reading :)


Post a Comment

Bricks, brickbats, applause - say it in comments!

Popular posts from this blog

यूँ दो चार घंटे के लिए नहीं

मुझे तुम्हारी सादगी पसंद आई

My poetry is not for foreplay. It's for after sex.