"I'll get you a cup of tea..."
Does this even qualify to be etched as the last words you spoke to me after an eternity that we spent together?

The broken shard of a glass with a stain of tea and a touch of your pink lipstick,
Does that qualify as a worthy memento of the two decades we held each other?

Had I known that you'll pass so abruptly,
would I have collected better mementos or would I have created better memories?

How would I know?
Now that you're gone, this is all I can hold close.

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Why this insistence on reaching new levels every now and then?
Why the need for triumphant parading of the trophies achieved?
Since when did relationships become Supermario games?

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I am the righteous Ram on a mission
I am Lady Sita's devotion.
If you ever even cast an evil eye on my dignity
I am also the noble Jatayu's bravery.

But this time the plot will have a difference.

You won't get to clip my wings and gloat over my fall.
Like a phoenix from the ashes I will rise tall.
Time will see my triumph and your defeat.
All of them are in me; I am enough for me.

-

They started off on this boat ride called relationship
Some of my folks and some of yours
Trust, love, lust, acceptance, jealousy and friendship to name a few
As the jolly good boat ride progressed on,
Some of them started de-boarding our boat
Trickling down in number till only your ego and my esteem were left
Surprisingly the boat which could carry the whole crew
Began capsizing when it was just these two
And before the boat wrecked into bits
I threw the life jacket to my esteem and saved it.

-

A speck of dust,
Originated in a medium of love
Undergoing Brownian motions in a medium of Ideas
Searching for a medium to stick to.

-

In a world of 'Encyclopedias'
I tend to appreciate a candid 'I don't know'

-

Your twinkling smile keeps my darkest nights bright
Your magic makes me wish for my dreams
But that's how close we'll ever get
This love from a distance is precious and deep

-

I wished for you to stay with me
It pains me now that my prayers were so intense
They halted your flight and clipped your wings...

-

Of Moms and Mountains...

-

I rummage in my bag pack
For something like a muse
Nothing is that precious nothing that vile

I gaze out at the moon
Tired she looks
Weary of being the model for countless number of times

I look back for my memories
And ohh a trail follows.
Coz with memories no-one can take just one you know.

Sadly today is one such day
Where I open the tap and air escapes.
Surely tomorrow shall bring forth brighter drapes.

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