Monday, June 18, 2012

Dreaming Of The Gulf

Photography: Rathin Mitra

You know a place has touched you when weeks after you have left the same
You feel and talk and dream of a return which is nothing but a waiting game
A game; if it is so, I am willing to play. Only this time without a playmate
without my moonshine, without my brother, playing Pillow Castle love-hate.

I know that place has tapped me because often I still smell the Emirates in the air
And feel the cutting sea wind by the Breakwater, a water break-love story so rare
I know that place is young when I see the blue of the sea, the sky and a cocktail
And sleep at the backseat of a Cruiser, with almost the feel of a sea sail.

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