heavens pour to cover up under the white shawl. Through cold waves, my warm body melts cotton. My red finger tips sucks the warmth from kangri inside my pheran
Just waiting at the station to see the faces of strangers.
With each train there are dreams, dreams with faces.
I often look at myself in them while they stare With freezing time, the signals appear frozen at the heart And still sparks on the signals amaze me with the hope of a new destination.