Tell me a tale.
Let there be seven seas, thunderstorms,
fire-spitting dragons in it.
Let there be a pet parrot, eating pearls,
mocking his demon master.
Let there be trouble at every step,
an unending maze, no way out.
I know all that and I am not scared.
All such tales end with a
‘living happily ever after’.

Tell me a tale
of the breath-choking hugs
under the neem tree
where dreams turn into his promises.

Tell me a tale
which can make me cry and howl
like a wounded animal
at the end of which
they come together
like lost children
finding each other by chance.

Once upon a time
there lived a princess
and the washer boy
was in love with her . . .

Such tales are rarely false.