Sunday, January 30, 2011

The First Fortnight

I never wanted to stop the talk
But felt like catching some breath
So I hung up, in the middle
And you felt bad. And since then we
Are living, in the same city
Like aliens.

I thought you would understand
And appreciate my poetry.
So I opened my diary, and read some to you.
To my disappointment
You liked
All of them.

It’s winter time.
In our city, it’s never cold enough.
We went for a coffee,
And on the way back home,
We held hands tightly
Just to ward off the fake shivering. 
Though, I must admit.
In our city, I’ve never felt this warm.

I am happy to know
That you are angry with me.
And I can see from this side
How you are ignoring the ringing phone.
It's your mother, she’s calling.
And just for nothing,
Please don’t shout at the maid.
Rather, if you ask me
I’d love to see you pondering on the words
We’ve said.

How could somebody waste an evening
Helping her aunt organize her kitchen?
How could someone think she has enough time
To go shopping with her mother?
Ahh, and how could anyone find it alluring
To visit a remotely related uncle’s place,
Over the weekend?
Well, my evenings are blank,
And they are being wasted, anyway.

She needed some time,
An hour he thought.
But after some five minutes
He just wanted to check
If she was done.
And came to know
That she hadn't even started.
He poked again,
Half an hour later.
She didn’t reply.
The hour has passed.
And he’s still waiting.

The movie was a trash,
How could he know beforehand?

I am sorry to keep you waiting for so long.
The traffic is heavy,
And my boss wanted me to finish a task…
And then that call from the client site came,
Just as I was about to leave,
I lost my I-Card for a while…
And… and… ohh ok, you are moving,
So can we go somewhere and talk?

I was born in this city,
And here I have been raised.
But in last twenty five years or so
It never occurred to me
This city lacks so dearly
Dark corners and lonely alleyways.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

The Breaking

You are tired, I wish you could stay.
For a while, so that we can love a little longer.
Here I keep my eyes fixed at your fingers
And you ask yours to close… and savour
The darkness around, though mundane
And the warmth that we share
Are not going to stay.
We are just waiting for the end to come.
End of wisdom of having each other.
And then we shall celebrate the fall of love
In our freedom of lovelessness, together.