I found this very old poem of mine. Written in school, in the bitter end of a class of Accounts in 11th standard, perhaps it was the last one of the day. Ajmer was warm, the water salty and happiness lay in the sound of a bell.

In my mind

Lost in the narrow streets of my mind,
Streetlamps on every dark corner,
Music playing from lonely sheds,
Some women danching with winter chills,
A coal scribble of poetry on white walls,
Smoke making its way from bitter chymnies,
Journeys to endless roads,
Memories declining and fading,
Beautiful eyes, words and lust,
Expectants grief; disbelieve in distrust,
Words hidden, riddled with hope scorned,
A curtained vision of a world beyond.
Laws invented and then justified,
The princess of thoughts sailing ahead,
The rain gods play with thunder.