Sorting out the carton of old jottings, photographs, diaries - practically drowning in nostalgia. Note to self - I wrote better stuff in my twenties :-). And also by the looks of it, read a lot of poetry and made a lot of notes on night visits to the IIT library. Here's a sweet one, unfortunately never noted the author (though I am fairly sure its from Indian Literature).
Image Source
Image Source
Tattered bells of scentless glory
mauve and magenta rooted
gay as gypsy rags
as abandoned as a circus
as gregarious as a crowd.
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