By Samriti Sharma
When I look at Venus from the roof of my country house
Shining so gracefully
In that golden hued sky
I remembered the summer
That I spent with my people
Discussing the dreams of my teens
In our teens the dreamer was alive
Still is
But the innocent one is gone
The one who dreamed of lofty pirpanjal
The perfection with which they carved
But the life that is carved with all its imperfections smiles as us now
The Venus and pirpanjal were in love with each other
Like you and me
Setting down of sun can make Venus visible
I want my pirpanjal to be visible
Visible like the fresh dew under my bare feet
But Venus has go away
As both can't shine together.