Nothing comes

This room has plastered white walls,
books, machines, pencils and erasers,
light from the windows, even darkness in the corners.

In the morning, the sun comes in an orange-yellow,
which is different from the yellow-orange of evening.

Sometimes, two pigeons come looking for food,
phone calls come, dhobi comes with the clean clothes.

Why don't you come in these lonely evenings?
Sometimes, I wish you too had come by mistake.
Don't you know, when nothing comes, what comes is pain?

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Yes, nothing comes. Iron Maiden is going to Bangalore. And we are sucking thumb in this village of ours.

In our college days, we had grown up listening to IM, and cheering Chintu, Jose, Chandhok, RR Singh and Srini to their renditions of Where Eagles Dare, and Hallowed Be Thy Name. IM was different from the other noise-generating, body-building type heavy metal bands (e.g. Megadeth; British heavy metal bands are anyday better than American ones). Their lyrics was engrossing - Coleridge's Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Icarus from Greek Mythology, Fear of the Dark and Wasted Years - and they had those mesmerizing twin lead guitar riffs by Dave Murray and Adrian Smith.

Here's a video of Seventh Son of a Seventh Son. Do listen to the melody of the twin lead at 2:35 and 2:07.