Skip to main content

The Love Span


When love came with a bunch of flowers,
You were sleeping,
Of the tiresome classes and exams,
Not to disturb you,
She walked away
Deciding to visit you some other day.
But when she came the next day,
She saw the angry you at home,
For some trivial matter.
Afraid of confronting the furious you, she once again walked away.
But for three years,
She was busy braiding her hair
And cleaning her mirror
To go out with the new found love.
Love came back with untouched lips
Yearning for a kiss,
But you were busy to miss,
Entangled in the hands of some passer-by,
Who only offered you a month of redemption,
And left you with a broken heart.
When depression rented the rooms of your heart,
you hated yourself
For being a fool and desperate.
Love landed with suspicion
Of meeting you again,
But you carelessly opened the door and offered a coffee.
Love was not partial this time.
She sat at your living room for years,
With her belongings at the door
And your hands in her's.
Then you offered her your leftover love,
Which vanished the chasms
And banished your dark tenants of the heart.
Love turned your nights to days,
She sensed the little kid in you,
And stole your heart
And kept it safe with her,
Because you were so careless.
Love walked into your messy room
In glossy dress and ready kisses.
Love baked cakes at your salary hike,
She stood with her teary eyes to be consoled
When you caressed her with utmost care.
Your love became old and vulgar,
With little forms of you playing around a bald headed you.
Love walked out of your life before you,
She had performed her part well,
The audience were satisfied.
But you were still searching for
Something,
Under the coat,
Between the toys,
In the old garage,
Among the rack of clothes,
Unable to explain what you have lost,
You walked away to the churchyard
To gift a bunch of flowers,
For your old love.
Gazing at the engraving,
You smiled like an enlightened ascetic
And mumbled something,
And I heard a'thank you'.

A.C

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Tu Koi Aur Hai

The characters of Imtiaz Ali are always difficult to decipher and can only be done if the actors do complete justice to it. And two such celebrated characters of Imtiaz Ali are Ved and Tara of Tamasha . Meeting Ved in Corsica was accidental to Tara. Both of them came there to be alone and enjoy some time away from their busy life. But what destiny had for them was different. But for Tara, what happened in Corsica didn't just stay at Corsica. What attracted Tara towards Ved was his coolness and the quirkiness which ultimately made her fall in love with him and break up with her boyfriend. She continued to pamper the memories at Corsica even without knowing Ved or his name. But meeting Ved which she longed for four years and being his girlfriend was not what Tara wanted. Tara fell in love with the Ved whom she met at Corsica not the Ved at Delhi. But it was all difficult for the Ved who is actually battling bipolar disorder to accept his reality. Ved wanted to live the life that he d...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Call for One More Summer Swim

  Dear Oliver,    Last summer was not only about freshly smelling grass and ripened peaches to me, it became something more than that because of you. Your arrival to help my father taught me lessons for a lifetime. It was you who gave meaning to my summer, to my days and its absurdities. When I first saw you, little did I realise that you are going to unravel the real Elio, an Elio who was so much in love. An Elio who was so confused at the choices of his love and who showed the courage to confront it no matter what. I remember when you whispered to me "Call me by your name and I'll call you by mine", the time when I felt as if the four lettered word Elio pouring out from your mouth is all I wanted to listen to in this entire universe. But sometimes life offers us a different path, away from what we actually want.  I still remember the fun we had at Bergamo, the way you kissed me secretly pressing against the walls, never did I experience that feeling ever again. Bec...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Sale

I have a broken heart and a half- written poem for sale, Worth a stallion. You can see to it that it's best of quality, Preserved from the long battles  And huge armada. I know the market is dull Enough to pay attention To a broken heart and a half- Written poem, But I see curious eyes waiting to Open their money bag, Tell them they can mend the heart, If possible, After all my attempts that turned vain, Mend it not to look mended, Mend it to look like a beating one Perhaps a 3am conversation  And love over wine may work, Or a lullaby to sleep. And complete the poem, With a sour end or bloodshed, For my muses are out on a pleasure trip, Refusing to be back to the world Of melancholy, Condemning my contemplations. As the vicinity became jubilant, Preparing for festivities, There I see him, with a huge money bag. Make the deal with that blue-eyed one, His eyes are sad enough to buy  My goods. Let him have it and tell him what I said. As I leave riding a black stallion ...
Post a Comment
Read more