all on a sudden <br />one day again <br />i face the isabgool <br /> <br />the own fountain of vraj-kishore <br />may be, wants to fly away in such a manner <br />to another afternoon <br /> <br />my tiffin-expenses cann’t discover that valley <br />till now <br />from where <br />it is said <br />all night-gowns begins <br /> <br />then i’m sitting <br />with my hands and legs spread <br /> in the sun-light <br />filled with <br /> the sound of chopping of cabbages <br /> <br />on the flowers of the sun-plant <br />that are in-between the wife and her mother-in-law <br />i exercise my intelligence very much <br /> <br />if the question of my security is raised <br />it is only a ‘for-God’s-sake’-like adjuration <br /> <br />the knot of a white handkerchief is so much heavy <br />i don’t know earlier <br />my knowledge of using prosody <br />getting amalgamated calmly <br />with the stamen used by the sleep<br /><br />murari sinha<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lines-more-lunatic-than-the-sun-8/
