When it comes to love for mangoes
My head to toe tangoes
Stereotypically I am a loud and proud Indian,
While raving about mango varieties without a median;
Mangoes can engage all my senses,
So shamelessly I surrender without any defences;
Even when I was mourning my losses,
The peak of mango season was the one that eases;
No wonder! I was born in the middle of the mango season,
For a reason, or so exaggerates my poet’s mind with passion!
The stupidest of all my stupidity
Is sharing my love for mangoes with a friend of serendipity;
As he has travelled far chasing his dreams,
My days have become insipid routines of silent screams;
Never in my wildest dreams, I fathom,
My love for mangoes would lose its anthem;
This whole season is slipping through my fingers;
As I walk through aisles of mangoes, his thought lingers…
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