Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Suno na...

What if, we forget the baggage. Forget the tears. Forget the silent accusations. And the loud ones. Forget the rainy nights on the wet roads. Forget the half-complaints. And the insecurities. Forget the the first exchanged message on facebook. Forget the bleeding nose. Forget the million moments of shared laughter. Forget judging and being judged. Forget the first hurried conversation. Forget the smiling mornings. Forget the snooze button and the systematic morning regime that follows. Forget the claustrophobic nights. Forget the abuses, the ones we mean and the ones we dont. Forget the shoes. Forget the cooking. Forget the shopping. Forget moving-in day. Forget the countless moving-out night. Forget the past. Forget the missed calls from Meru. Forget the future. Forget the first night at the hotel. And the third one at the hotel. Forget the badly made tea. Forget the midnight maggi. Forget the naked walks around the house. Forget the super-smell of suji ka halwa. Forget the birthday. Forget the marthon across Vasant Vihar. Forget the belt. Forget the lies. Forget the truth. Forget Facebook. Forget the love. Forget chinese food. Forget the hate. Forget the ego and the indifference that comes with it. Forget the jokes. Forget the sarcasm. Forget the first time. Forget the last time. What if we forget everything. And meet for a cup of coffee. What if?

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Look at me

You look at me, and yet you don't see me. You see everything I used to be. You see what you want me to be. Sometimes you see right through me, while I keep wishing that you would look inside me. See me for who I am, who I have become. And for once, stop asking me questions, stop digging deeper and deeper into my past, stop making me regret my very existence.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

The Morning After

The harshness of the voice fades away,
The echo of the words spoken remain
The sound of the muffled sobs dies out,

The wetness on the pillow remains
The accusations thrown around are forgotten,

Their scars etched in the soul remain
The singe of the slap reduces,
The redness of the swollen cheek remains

The hatred and pain of the night crumbles,

The morning after, only love remains..

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Won't you?

The clasped hands, an unruly flick of hair
A stolen look, the hesitant smile
There's an unsaid thought in the air
Won't you come and sit with me awhile?