History is to be noted in moments

History is to be noted in moments

 Christmas break in a trench
Raindrops in a burial ground. 

 Night without crickets 
City without graffiti
And skylarks without skies.

 Or the Corns, wind, women, 
Sojourns and suntan

 Evenings secluded to oneself 
and black coffee.

 thoughts like birds

 Seagulls crossing 
thresholds of borders 
on your skin.

 The half tint canvas
Where stories procreate
One after the other

 Of lips, hips and red streams
Of bullets and bullshits
Of Demons and Demi-gods
Of Pope and the Peepal 
Of love and lie.

 History is no more history
But a child's game of 
war and loss and war

 Sticks and mulberry crowns
Of you and me and other lives.

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