Skip to main content

Stay

When he made that charming cup of tea,
And when he smiled, so lovingly,
You knew you were changing,
Your stone cold heart was now melting,
One pebble at a time.

And when he touched you, gently,
You just smiled.
Oh, did it hurt then?
When you knew he was leaving?
Or, were you just embracing
The moment, without grieving?

His presence,
His perfume,
Did that make you forget
About someone you left
Long before he came?

And when he talked about his love,
Did you reminisce yours?
Or is it him you thought about,
And his lost love of yore?

When he asked about you,
You knew you were ready to tell,
To tell him about all you know,
And all that has bothered you, ever so.

Did you tell him then that you were broken?
Or did you just shed a drop of tear?
Tell me, did you just smile,
And pretended to be just fine?
Did your heart want to cry?
Did you feel like running away to hide?

When he caressed your hands,
You knew you wanted him to stay.
You knew if he just stayed,
You'd heal a little more,
You'd smile for a little longer.
And maybe you'd also laugh,
The laughter that's been missing
From the last few days.

Tell me, did you tell him all?
Did you ask him to stay?

I know,
You didn't.

Comments

  1. Great, I love it! Enjoy the weekend!

    Check my last post here!

    Follow each other? Let me know and I'll do the same:
    My blog | Bloglovin

    ♥‿♥

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Pee Journey

If you’re someone who has traveled long distances holding the urge to pee and hence, doubtful of drinking another gulp of water, you’ll probably understand what I’m going to talk about. Every time the vehicle I’m traveling in gets a jerk because of the bumpy road, I fear I’ll get back to being the 5-year old who peed her pants in her sleep.
If you’re a woman and traveling, here are some pee stories that may act as a caveat or a tip for your next journey. :-P
Mumbai to Hyderabad
I remember taking an overnight bus from Mumbai to Hyderabad which I had boarded at 8pm. By 11pm I knew I couldn’t sleep if I didn’t pee. I go to the driver and ask him to stop at a hotel I see ahead. He doesn’t. I stand near him for more than fifteen minutes asking him to stop because I had to pee but he just wouldn’t stop anywhere else but the dhaba he usually stops in. He would say we would reach there in ten minutes. I finally had to hold my pee for around two hours walking to and fro the aisle of the bus,…

The Self-Help Book

He slicks his dark black hair back with his fingers. Outside, it was broad daylight, offering his dark brown eyes a view of the western part of the city. The neighboring tall buildings remind him he is on the 22nd floor of his workplace. He finishes off the remnants of his black coffee, already cold by now. The half-smoked cigarette burns out on the ashtray. He pulls the ropes of his French window and his cabin is no longer reminded of the world outside.
 He turns his swivel chair with the support of his desk to face a laptop in front of him that wastes no time in taking him to another world altogether. The white striped shirt he is wearing with his dark grey tie match the colors on the back of his laptop that flaunt the initials “S. R.”.
* An unexpected knock on her door wakes Sheena up from her siesta. She reaches for the yellow dupatta lying carelessly on the other side of the bed, as if it was equally tired from the previous day’s work. She wears the dupatta around her neck cove…

The Boy in the Train

"You'll always be late for the previous train, and always on time for the next.” 
― Piet Hein

I rejoice whenever I get a window seat on Indian trains whenever it’s a chair car (otherwise Upper Berth would be my spot), more so when it is the last seat near the door, usually marked 4. There’s always more legroom for those who get the last seat. The TTE (Train Ticket Examiner) sits in the same seat on the other column, marked 1, which feels quite safe for a single woman traveller. When I need to leave my seat for a short break, it’s the TT (in short for TTE) who would watch over my luggage. When I need to ask how delayed the train was, it was again the TT, my neighbour for the journey.
However, sitting near the TT comes with other experiences too apart from the sense of security. There would be travellers without a ticket, looking for a vacant seat, who would sit on the TT’s seat itself pretending it’s theirs and later being laughed at, when busted. There would be people coming t…