Rainbow

I understood I lost my first love-
at Delhi Haat, an ordinary autumn day.
Thereby I lost my greatest entertainment,
my greatest companion and my soul turned gray.

I cried profusely that afternoon.
For myself, nay. For her, maybe. For us-I ain't sure.
But tears ran down and under a summer noon
they shall have glittered like a silver fall.

I began to run-my sobs grew embarrasingly loud.
I ran afar from her-she pulled away in a bus.
I wailed and my heart broke down against my chest.
Like a rocket's charge the release fueled my legs.

Staring down from a window seat a Delhi that passed by
I felt romantic, broken and a hero. I felt
beautiful in tragedy and momentous in grief. A thousand
violins sprang epic accounts in melody.

But I lost my capacity to love another afternoon-When on
sighting my old love after many years I had gasped
and bit my tongue too late: 'eeek I never knew she
could grow so stout'. A life's illusion died that day.