No:31248

Went to see her , did I,

Those once sparkling almond eyes.

The door half-opened, behind the parallel bars,

“No 31248”,Emerged did she, wearing strips of white and black.

She claimed she was fine, but I could spot a hidden tear,

And those violet marks, on her, visibly clear.

We held our hands, words in silence,

This punishment , her only  penance.

I had nothing to share. I didn’t want to,

Killing the pain in me, was the best I could do.

But why was she held, while I was out?

Enjoying my existence , while there, inside she rots.

After all, the same thing done, had we.

Raised our voice. Opposed the injustice we see.

The answer . It was a living scar,

I was white whilst she was black.....

HER HANDS AROUND ME AND I’M HOME……………….

He sat near the window. The rain splashing herself against the half closed window. He had left it that way. Half open. A few drops made their journey inside, landing on his smooth, clean-shaved face. Those eyes closed. Involuntarily. He sat that way. A pause. Absorbing in ,the coldness, the purity of the drops. He remembered. A flash back. The childhood hide-and-seek-game. His college love. Those football games. The drive in the rain. The pranks never caught. The spicy masala chat. The laughter. The tears. The fun. Mischief. That incident. He was alone then. Somewhere. Afraid. Frightened. Cold. Numb. Masked. Undiscovered.

Suddenly a hand slid itself from the behind. They moved forward, the fingers clinging each other into a hug. Her hair fell forward and touched his face before her skin. A kiss on his cheek. He smiled. “Everything does happen for good”, he remembered from the other scrap of memories. She put his arms around her shoulder and helped him from his wheeled-chair onto his bed. Painless. Now. He had found his antidote. He was not alone anymore………..