'You' but your 'Memories'

Its not always that you choose to love.

It is not always you love to love.

But at times when the heartbeat fastens and stomach turns numb,

beautiful songs are forged.

She ponders over the days bygone and those to come.

She says she does not know when she fell in love.

 

I dont know when love has just begun.

Dunno when it was first i felt for you.

Was it when you had called me the other day ?

or was it when you first took my name?

I loved you for more than a single instance..

Once while holding hands under the streetlight,

Once in the CCD sitting besides..

A lot happened over a coffee..oh yes !

And once when we babbled till dawn,

And when you texted me in early morn.

I loved you

I love you only more.

Didnt know that love had already begun.

Didnt know it has to be short and sweet.

I love you for more than a single instance,

I love you for a part of my lifetime.

Believe me when i say...

"i can someday loose you...you but not your memories.."

P.S. : She says she does not know when she fell in love.

Lessen the Lesson

The perishable act of time will soon decease and she will soon be with Life..living it..There is a "send anyway" option on her cellphone which pops up whenever she sends an empty sms to someone..and everytime she saw that, she had an idea of a similar option for her existence..tagged "live anyway". She is my friend. 

It was once, when sitting on the terrace of my old hostel, looking at the clouds..white..up above in the distant sky, i felt like talking to her of bliss and not the sorrows. I wanted to talk of those little pleasures of life which bring a dawning day to every endless night that i pass by. I wanted her to listen to me and find happiness for herself. Looking at her eyes, i spoke a few words but then we shared silence for hours. 

 

All i said was..

My mom's eyes that continue to stare at mine when i laugh,when i smile...makes me feel a little proud. Pleasure is when a child smiles at me..pleasure is when i am thoughtful and someone in the crowd is able to notice. It is bliss when i read an old page of my diary which has sadness in it. Bliss is the pain that comes from expectations because i soon realise that it was stupid of me expecting something like that. Pleasure is just the old flat in Charukeshi apartments. Pleasure is in being sorry. Pleasure is having a grand reason to cry and being able to cry peacefully. Pleasure is when goodbyes are kept tacit. It is when you dont have to set limits for yourself and others do that. Pleasure is staring at the white clouds in the distant sky.

Memoirs of a Juvenile

He took me home when I was five. 

He was a godparent to me. 

He was god to me. 

He played with my toys and along with me. 

He scribbled in my notebooks when i wrote numbers and alphabets.

He ran barefoot on footpaths while we went out to get new shoes for me.

He liked me a lot and I loved him a ton.

He watched me while I slept.

He stared at my lips whenever I was eating.

I used to hold his hand at home.

He used to hold my hand when out.

He used to burst out balloons before I could see them fly.

He scissored my hair when they grew down my shoulders.

He used to switch off lights while going out on streets leaving me behind.

He adored when I wept and held me tight when he cried.

He used to run behind my tricycle.

He took me once to a musical show.

He has purchased a new watch for me and one day I lost it.

I have also lost him now.

People said he was a maniac.

People say i was bought up by a maniac.

People say i am insane which i am not.

I am wild.