You’ve come my way,
Given me a life,
And then left me alone
On this stony path.

Who will, then, care
To know who I am?
When you have left me
With nothing to say?

All I have now
Is this parched soul
That seeks your respite
And be part of your life.

I search for you
Amidst the hundred faces
That come before me.
And console myself
Saying, You still love me.

These untrue words
Mean nothing to my heart
Which is sure of one thing
That you have disowned me.

——————-

The last poem that I posted “Waiting for You” came to me after a long long while. In these months when I wasn’t penning my thoughts, it was Love that kept me busy with its thoughts. During these months, when Love kept me engaged, it made me realize the essence of poetry… that Love is a sublime form of poetry, that Love what was makes you live a poem, breathe one and then when you are on the seventh heaven, that’s when a poem comes to you and runs towards a paper… [:)]

Aah, I find it so difficult to express myself. I know what I have written is a mere cluster of words that have no meaning, probably. But, I write all this here so that I feel I have shared the most beautiful feeling with the world! I want to stand at the top of the cliff and say, “YES, I AM IN LOVE!!!”

PS: Well, the thought of Love has made me so mad, I forgot what I had to say. Thanks, people for loving the last poem. [:)]

I feel the pain of longing
As if I were walking on a lonely road
Without a shadow by my side.
I feel the bruise of distance
That time marks between us
When you are gone.

And then, I keep waiting
For your handsome face
To bestow a kiss on my cheek,
To assure me you are by my side
And I am under your spell…

————

I wish I could continue with that life for ever
I wish our life was the same as we desired
But if wishes had the power…
We wouldn’t have gone away…

I never thought of the world around,
Life meant me and you,
Our aspirations, our dreams,
Our words, our verse,
Nothing was yours,
Nothing was mine.

I was so used to your better self
I could not believe the bitter side
I could not tolerate the other way
And so, one fine day,
I left you and came this way.

Now, when I am far away,
I realize the pang that the heart felt then.
I feel the poetry inside me dying,
I feel my self suffocating.

I wish I could fight myself.
I hurt you so much,
Now, I can not come back
Nor can I ask you to call me.

I only can spend life thinking,
Imagining the warm body of yours,
The cozy embrace,
The poetry that smiled between us,
The verse that took birth
Due to our union…
And the life that I could call “Life”

—————————–

These days I am a bit tied up with some work. And yes, of course, my studies.
Though I to read almost anything. The mere fact that I will have to sit and write (during my examinations) is putting my nerves off balance. I am an absolute lazy baby and I hate appearing for examinations. But, I will have to.

To cut the long story short, I won’t be able to post more often. keep your love for my posts intact, till I come back as a regular blogger.

Your thoughts, your mind,
Your emotions, your call,
Each one was special to me.
I understood everything.
I knew you in and out.

Our love was so pure
That I fell short to comprehend it.
I took you for granted
And went ahead for the world around.

Now, when I want to come back,
Something is stopping me.
I know you are at the end of the tunnel,
Standing with your arms open for me.
Yet,there lies something inside,
Which isn’t allowing me to run into you.

May be there is a guilt feeling,
Or a feeling of having lost my innocence.
Or a feeling of done stupid things under the charm of my innocence?
And realizing them now…
When you are far away…
I am hurt…
And I have no respite.

Look, now I realize,
How many times I have uttered “I” in these few lines.
It was never “WE”.
It was always “I”.
Never did I look at you.
In spite of falling in love with you,
I pestered my selfish “I”.
Did I fall in love with you?
Or I always kept loving my “I”?

I have no answers.
Only sobs, tears,
And a feeling of loss.
Of losing my “I”.
(Well, I am happy about it),
And of losing you
And of losing “Our Love”, “Our Life”, “Our Dreams”
And Our selves.

———————–

The last day it was,
I observed nothing of her.
She was nowhere,
Only her thoughts she left behind.

Every one was searching for her,
Women, men, alike.

She was gone somewhere,
No one knows.
Leaving my pen disturbed.

—————–

Fourth day it was,
“Progress day”, let’s say.
Now she opened her frock,
Offering a front view.
Revealing her breasts.

Stares increased,
Hunger increased…

Rest I leave for those,
Who like to imagine things.
I,as a woman, fail as a poet.
I can not describe her posture, then.

Though I have words,
They aren’t coming to the nip of my pen.
Offering hints, I can never do that.
I either say things, matter-of-factly,
Or never utter them, at all.
This, hence, has to be a trouble,
For your brain.
Understand my agony
And forgive me for your pain.

—————-

The third day was the same,
She,looking out for men,
Men,looking at her with hungry eyes,
Women,looking at her with shocked eyes,
And me, tracing every ones eyes.

Not once did I see her face,
Not once did she look up.
She only was trying to show everyone,
Her back,
Which she felt, was her “inviting” asset.

This time something had changed.
I observed her while coming back.
This time, the back was exposed more.
Sides of her breasts could be seen.
May be, to fill in an urge to touch them
Will bring men to her, she thought.

For the women staring, it was a shock.
A girl, she must be, of fifteen,
Definitely, not more than seventeen.
Aunties felt, “how could she do that?”.
Girls of her age,
They didn’t even dare to look at her.
“Why is she doing that?”, they thought.
I had no answers, but some general assumptions.
“May be she wants to earn.
May be she is tired of wandering
May be she is hungry for food.
May be she wants to fulfill her bodily hungers.”
Whatever be the reason,
She was the doing what she wanted.

——————-

When the next dawn came,
I saw her there.
In the same place,
With the same stance.

I don’t know of if she got the touch,
But was sure of the glance.
Not just men, but women, too,
Gave her that shocked look.
As if they had always been innocent
And oblivious to such moves.

She was in the same green frock,
Unzipped to expose the back,
In a frock, she was,
May be to tell of her being a virgin,
Or for those who choose the least penetrated lot.