I have spread the evening for you

When you come to my home
Don't say I am in a hurry

I will also understand
When you volunteer to say-
I had some work this way and thought of seeing you on my way back

At least have some tea
I will make it hot enough to prolong your stay
And in between you may say something
Rather
You will force the answers out
to every ordinary unintended questions
And some that I could never ask nor you intended to answer.

Sarsara

Sarsara is not picturesque
Only  clutter of houses and nondescript people
Women do not walk the street carrying water pots

My biggest complain is there is no mango tree in this village,
She said this, in her array of trivial complaints

They do not grow alsi in the long stretch of fields

Small stream of Jeera flows before it mingles in Mahanadi
This is the river replicates Yamuna and carries the legends of Krishna

Kansa rules the town across jeera during dhanu jatra
But it is not sarsara

Sarsara doesn't carry any legend
Shyamalee doesn't take bath in jeera
Nor she comes in wet clothes

The trees and bushes are haphazard
There is nothing to notice in sarsara

She closes the window to mournful afternoon's veranda
It may not rain
There is no sign of storm....