My hands smell
of rusted iron.
I've been holding
the window grills
for too long.

My heart sounds
like the rustle
of autumn leaves.
It's been falling
for too long.

My soul seems
to be a rustic recluse.
It's been a lone gypsy
for far too long.

And this poem is
but a rusty rhyme,
echoing the sound
of your thoughts
rustling against
each other in conflict.
Rustic, but not in a rush,
wandering in greens lush.

-

In this rustic world
the quality of iron
within you matters.

-

Oh rustic couples..
Are you in ecstasy "now"..
(On the way to the kitchen she saw the shepherd boy.)
The faces of these two are filled with rosy pigment !
Is it because of their fear?
Or is it because of their love?
The stick he hold is not Only to rule the sheep but to find bread for his family with her in future.
Is the hen of black shows the upcoming struggles they have to face in "life"?
Is the hen of red shows the love that they have "today"?
Anyway the "flowers" beside them have "blossomed" "now". And the field in frond of them is "green" "now".
But the "wall" in between them is a big question to be one.

-

She once had a really beautiful voice,
But after all the abuse, All the smoking,
What's left of her, Is just a rustic voice,
That cracks up, on every note,
Once she was beautiful,
Now only her skeleton remains.

-

"കാലം നരച്ച നിറങ്ങളിൽ
നിറച്ചതെല്ലാം ആ
നനുത്ത ഓർമ്മകളായിരുന്നു"

-

Engross me like a dry leaf
Tumbling safe & sound on
my toiled paper o' verses,
Nothing more beautiful
To it's aesthetic touch.

-

"Weighing those scales, outscraping
rustic bones of love, with marrows
painted in the vicinity of air, wherein
hollowness seeped, So did lonely
vibes, leaving behind a naive tear,
trickling down the nascent skin.
Painful. Hopeless. Engraved deep."

-

I saw a dream or actually I went there?
I am little confused since I live in this era.

A village where,
the sun rises to give me constructive energy,
the fragrance of wind dissolved into my breath,
the sugary vocal of birds fell in my ears,
the trees used to give me shade and fruits,
the greenery I adored everyday,
the no horn service was actually applicable,
there was no comfy bed but a comfy sleep.

A village from where I don't want to come.

Oh what a rustic charm it was !

-

समझना मुश्किल हो जाता है लोगों का जब कोई गंवार मिलता है!
बरसना शुरू हो जाता है तब लोगों को ज्ञान का अंवार मिलता है!

-

You promised me love
You said you'd be there for me
I didn't ask anything
But you still promised.
Now, you broke your promises
Now, you left me alone,
I picked up pieces of my shattered heart
Broken, torn
But wait,
what's this? The mosaic I created while putting them back?
A beautiful quilt from my past?
The juxtaposed colors lying next to each other.
I didn't know there was so much beauty in my heart?
And it feels tenuous more than ever.
It's not soft, it's not naive like earlier
The rustic feel is new to me.
And am so loving it.
Is it that broken hearts are most beautiful?

-