Dying Star

Dying it is sinking

to fall on mother earth

As I make a wish

unaware of the reality

There’s a question ringing around

How How How ?

How can a “DYING STAR” make my wish true.

True! Isn’t it?                                                                                 

But I remember how sitting on the terrace I used

to count the uncountable stars waiting one to fall

onto my lap. 
But time has elapsed and so has the outlook towards old granny’s secret beliefs.

Oh! heavenly stars come down to me as my wish to meet

my eyes glittering under this grey sky,

twinkling to make a wish.

A dying star to gift me a new life,

a messenger from the heaven to bless me with a new life,

life of a twinkling star.

Year after year

again the same hearth

with the old tattered terrace;                                                       

up as I see a full moon. 

But oh! 

where are the stars?

I see the street light

I feel the breeze

I can hear the halla-balloo

of the marriage procession,

firecrackers booming up in the sky.

But where is my “DYING STAR” in the

“dead sky” above; I see none.

And I make a wish to

the dead sky to return

my dying star so that

I can ask for my grandmother

back from heaven.

WHERE ARE YOU MY “dying star”?