their eyes locked into each other,
unmindful of the sais leading them on
or the gilt-edged sunrise drowning them slowly,
or the bee-eaters darting, or even the macaques quarelling.
But I wonder where they're headed
marriage, a custody dispute, a cathartic divorce?
mehndi, school fees, wilting outside consulates,
an empty nest, a twilight of babysitting?
regrets and a fading away into Alzheimer's?
Or will they just go back, eyes looking ahead
3 BHK flats, Euro III compliant cars,
always some few days away in a broad noon
that starlight having dimmed.
I cannot quite say. They've gone out of sight;
a group of boisterous boys arrives,
in their train - – another dozen thoughts.
I can't keep thinking all the time – so I
look back into my camera,
hunting paradise flycatchers with my viewfinder.