RO (MAN/BO) TIC switch



table plywood got eroded on its sharp edges,
its like a bleak toothless smile of an old-man,
still holding spread of unclassifiable things upon it,
one being this breathing live-screen of world window,
a gloomy day though with gentle showers that didn’t
switch on the happiness mode of my distorted moods,
dry coughs followed with feverish salival swallows,
an overpowering  heartburn of manifold hidden hungers,
a drowsy head falling off in slants to be kept back,
all programmed a sequence of a crappy mind piece unasked

that day a week before or more your manly scents
pulled me in an overnight well of eternal oneness,
came as rolling scenes before me now more often,
not to forget, as hours ticked off came your recharge alarm
neither asked your identity code nor place of origin
Can faintly remember perfume molecules of your presence
Older make of mine lost to a check last week, got sealed till now.

what more could be expected out of robotic
existences in a cyber-net of mere benefits,
How well the mask fits us both when in romantic-
intellectual- spiritual- poetic- living human modes,
labelled french romantic, my specs shines in some aspects,
withstands more deceptions with lesser assumptions,
doesn’t  have day-spoiling arguments or wrapped party
surprises of lethal attacking designs,those life-taking,
still runs on an unending battery of loaded patient smiles,
true to a thirties ‘French lady in a long wait of her love.

well, its the magical figure of the days running
that makes original masala love-twist even in coded
scriptures of hard-core robotics, still one-four-three
holds its own drowning human spell as deep as titanic,
once again Rose and Jack would now come alive in us,
a deathless feel will just exist mindless of time-designs
Memory is just a notion, gaps in RAM ROM adds fuel to our melodrama.


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