Monday, 18 June 2012

Your song

We're miles away.

But, that doesn't stop me from thinking about you.. Or thinking about how this is going to end.
Or, if it isn't. That ray of hope still lives, I guess?

I don't know if any of this would change if we didn't feel like unfinished. It's just.. the feeling of not being over lingers on.

I don't even know when I'm going to see you next. Or what I'm going to tell you.

Maybe, I'll tell you how beautiful your eyes are. And, how I really wish we walked more. And, got lost.

Maybe I'd tell you how, when you held my hands, my heart actually did a little sky diving.
And, how momos will always remind me of you.

I'd tell you how you make me want to tell you stories. And, listen to lots of yours.

And, how it takes all I have to not tell you that I want you.

Maybe I should have hugged you for longer than I did. And, gotten you drunk.

Maybe I should tell you, how when we were together that day, I could see no one, except you.

Maybe you should have held me more.
Maybe I should stop looking for you wherever I go.

But, maybe all of this won't matter.

Because eventually you're just going to be a memory I'll try hard to not remember.

Wednesday, 2 May 2012


Teenage first timers.
One shady bar. Little after midnight.
Sneaking in hushed voices.

Dim music and loud lights hitting the eyes.
With excitement in the air, noisily they sit.
Glasses of alcohol arrive.
Hesitation undermined by curiosity they drink.

And, as it hits them,

all they are left with is..

burning throats
fake smiles of approval.


Saturday, 10 December 2011

Breaking Norms, retard style.

We don't have to be all co-ordinated. Yellow and orange un-matches perfectly.

You don't have to buy me flowers. Sharing a vada-pav does the trick.

We don't have to walk hand in hand, blushing and singing romantic songs. Nirma Washing Powder will be our anthem. And, we'll dance to it. Like retards.

You don't have to like my pimples and my clueless mess of a hair. Be angry on them like I am too?

We dont need to kiss each goodnight. Pillow fights shall be our routine.

I'll mess up your hair and you'll tickle me. Or vice versa.

No, fancy restaurants or sitting sophisticatedly. Roadside junk food is all we need.

You won't take me to the movies that much, but come with me on eating expeditions?

We won't go partying in high heels and tight clothes. Instead we'll just watch trashy movies and Modern Family in our unflattering pajamas.

We will always eat on the bed. And, spill food everywhere and on each other.

And, then have pizza and cheesecake dates.

You don't always have to waste your money. Let me make my wallet sad too.

We won't need long phone calls or texts. We'll be just fine.

No, we don't need any of these.


You'll need make me laugh. And, be there.

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