On evenings like these..

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On evenings like these, i miss my home -- decked in snow and hope.
Awaiting:
a brighter sky;
an ice-free drive

**

freezing hands that shovel the snow to clothe it in the warmth of the heat from the electric stove, which is otherwise declared pointless for our gravies and curries.

thermals that cover the beer bellies and cheesey flabs; crooked smiles that assure that you are a co-conspirator and a confidante in the secrets of the snow.

**

the sleeves of the starbucks beside my home that i wish to paint on with memories from the starbucks of my Indian city - here the coffee shop is a hub of chatter.

the roads that are now dark with ambition and the busy people deep into their gadgets avoiding eye contact to assure that they are insulated from small talk.

**

On evenings like these, I miss my home - decked in snow and hope.
Awaiting:
a brighter sky ;
an ice-free drive





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