He woke up to a sunny morning
As the dalihas in his garden blazed with a tinge of gold
The white curtains were leaning on one end
The half finished plate lay on the table
The tea stains kissed the edges of the cup                                
His worn out shirt hung clumsily on the pillowcase
An old book lay open fluterring to the tunes of the fan  
The clock continued to take steps back and forth
A fruit basket did a headstand in a corner
His damp eyes tortured the cracked ceilings
Couldnt see- walking stick or
Earthquake, an old photo frame…all topsy turvy
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