Body of life

Heart pumped blood at 80 bps,

wish eyes could pump held back tears.

Feet ran at 12 kms/hour,

wish words uttered could at least crawl to the ears.

Hands could rotate 360 degree,

wish outlook could accept some 180 degree differences.

Back could support the neck for 24 hours,

wish thoughts could support the actions for a few moments.

Gifts from you….

walking the path carved by lines in your palm,
led me to crossroads,

listening to the angry words hid by your silence,
bled me to tears

slipping in the dreams that left you insomniac,
made me sleep with nightmares

holding tantrums that lent you confidence,
left me emotionally crippled ,

giving you the canvas that world
deprived you off,
left my pages blank

Complain letter

I had questions for you,
but you couldn’t even breach my silence,

i wanted you to try and toe the lines,
i had built walls, but they had doors,
i wanted you to knock at least once,

i wanted you to say
with your lips, if not words,

i found my reasons to stick with you,
but i wanted you to find yours,

differences never bothered me
as much as your tendency to judge,

fights never bothered me,
as much as your tendency to avoid issues

Distance

Some drift apart,

out of ego,

out of differences,

carrying grudge,

holding back apologies.

Some meet afterwards,

maybe after ages,

to cry, hug,

and make peace,

with the distance,

that could always be met.

But some stay together,

even after drifting apart,

and never meet.

Donno which distance is more painful.

Coming home

i walked up the floors,
and
rang the bell,
out of habit of 12 years.

Waited for few minutes,
after a while,
felt the keys in pocket,
my only companions,
from then on.

As the key pierced to unlock,
a knife pierced to sink the heart.
As the key turned anti-clockwise,
i searched my pocket for another one,
which could turn back my watch,
by 3 years, if not more.

Unlocking the door,
that day,
was like,
unlocking loneliness,
after years of being welcomed,
with a cup of tea.

Conversations…

Some conversations never took place,

i never sat with those passersby,

in a coffee shop,

Or

over a glass of whiskey.

Meetings never stretched beyond a glance.

Even then,

i looked forward,

to the magic of steps matching a single beat,

as they cross by..

i knew the place and the time,

where eyes would change ends.

Beauty of all this was,

i never has to justify my absence

or

i never had to explain what i meant.

As i said,

some conversations never took place,

but we picked up from where it was left.