what is guilt, asked the queen of memory land
when u rememeber the things children asked
and you forgot to bring
or letters that you should have written
and you did not
or you loved the leaves
that fell of their own accord
of the creepers on the broken walls
or you stared at the dark big eyes
which meant restraint in the valley
of a voluble stream
i am at peace
now,
i am finding every memory
in my almirah like
neatly pressed clothes
that you always arranged
despite my attempt to disorganise them
time and again