Happily never after

You stood on our threshold,

Without so much of a word,

You crept in with such ease,

Through age old stories,

Through age old customs,

Along with your age old buddy,

Along with your age old lover,

You formed a triumvirate,

To give us triple the misery.

Your claws spread everywhere,

They poisoned our happiness,

You showed us our place,

Forgetting that you were the intruder

In our lives.

Not content at clipping our wings,

And deriving a sadistic pleasure,

In your excessive time with us,

Your lover went a step ahead,

And chose to take the little that belonged to us.

You called it a new identity,

We called it a forced one.

Of sacred altars and garlands, it was not a new life.

It was the end of an old and delightful one,

Just as per the wishes of everyone,

Except us.



Raman and Jhilmil lay desecrated amongst the horde of stones,
Elders of the caste had turned a blind eye,
To this growing love.
Their tetchy temperament,
Had added an extra couple
to the list of killed ones,
For the day.