Tera bayaan ghalib

The voice that soothes.
Melodious without
any melody.
with sadness,
depth,
the silent restraint
it holds,
taints a curious
shade to the evening.

Gulzar is crooning on the CD.
His voice, a deep melody,
reading Ghalib's letters.
While Jagjit Singh sings.
My most admired artists
romancing the words by Mirza Ghalib.
As I listen,
give in,
a melancholy sadness settles
as the evening progresses into the night.
Oblivious to the everyday sounds
drifting into the room.
To the cell phone that beeps
in apparent emergency.
To the life eating away
at my cells.
I am
only of these voices
being carried away,
with a wanton abandon
as the soft light floods my room,
the cold tiles under my feet,
the warm food tucked away.
into a world of stories.
where it promises to take me.

Then a sadness settles over me.
As dust settles on an object after a year of being untouched.