The Love Song

You are into her before you even know it,
You love her before you even know what love is,
You aren’t sure of course,
Sometimes it’s so easy to just be a pervert,
Sometimes it’s so easy to put your friendship on sale just to get rid of some momentary bouts of loneliness.
What is friendship?
Apart from that caring and sharing,
Is it the line that you swear to never cross?
Even though you are mostly hanging around this side of the line longing to explore the land opposite side of it,
Mind says it might be fun,
Mind says we should be hopeful, of course nothing would change.
What mind? Mind intoxicated with lust among other things?
The fucking temptress.
Nothing remains the same,
Stop with the tendency to make simple things complicated.
Let me continue walking on this side of paradise,
I love it,
No, trust me,
It’s not the question of me being corrupted or scrupulous,
Maybe it’s simply the question of me being hesitant
Or cowardly
Or in denial.
Don’t ask me.
Don’t argue.
Do you understand the implications of what you are implying?
It’s so easy to fall for her though,
No wonder it has happened before
With other people,
In other places.
It’s easy to stand in the queue,
Waiting for nothing in particular,
Maybe hanging out with people who share the same object of admiration.
But I fucking love her,
But they do too!
It’s so easy to love her though,
I don’t know why,
I don’t know why,
I don’t know why,
It makes me fucking hate myself
I don’t want to be another leech yearning to be loved back,
I wanted to love –
For once in my whole god damned life!
Maybe that is why I am standing in the queue,
Hoping for everything,
Hoping for nothing.
I like to believe that you are aware what it means to me,
What you mean to me,
I like to believe that you are aware of my presence in this queue,
And in a way you even like it.
Who doesn’t like to be loved after all?
Makes you such a bitch.
And I love you even more.
I know you won’t say it out loud,
I know you are in some evil way even wanting me to confess,
Yeah, good luck with that.
There’s more thrill in secretly searching for various shades of the same colour in your eyes,
There’s more thrill in noticing the varying sizes of your pupil,
There’s more thrill in unabashedly juxtaposing my fantasies on to you,
There’s more thrill in listening to your voice in sync with the songs,
There’s more thrill in watching you kiss other people,
The bittersweet sigh from my heart,
I have dealt with this before,
You can be my ultimate romantic tragedy.
Anyway, I am not sure if I am capable of making you my happy ending.
So ignore my love,
Ignore my love for you, my love
Meanwhile I can write millions of love songs on you,
Which I hope would disappear from the face of the Earth,
Especially by you.


Just a sucker for conversations

Conversations, we are having it over tea, maybe over a puff of Marlboro, maybe over coffee, maybe over that dinner which I am too busy to eat because I am listening to you. Conversations, maybe the reason why I accepted your friend request or swiped you right or went on all those dates or made that first remark about the weather piercing through our awkward silence.Conversations, the ones that happen over moons, over  rainy days, over crazy dreams, over out of the blue topics, over craziest ideas, over craziest people whom we might or might not even know. Conversations, when I have lent you my full attention even when you are talking about things that I do not really understand. Conversations, when you make no sense at all and yet I am amazed by your expressions and by the passionate way you try to explain. Conversations,when you leave me in awe with your knowledge of things that I never knew existed. Conversations, when you tell me those anecdotes that couldn’t have happened even in movies. Conversations, when you say something funny and I can’t stop laughing. Conversations, when it is a perfectly scary night to share horror stories. Conversations when you weave the words just the right way and I suddenly fall madly in love with you. Conversations, at odd hours when eventually I watch you fall asleep in my lap. Conversations, when we argue about trivial things and I am laughing inside at our stupidity. Conversations, about things that I will tell noone but you. Conversations, when I can look in your eyes and see no judgement attached whatsoever. Conversations, when you try to mend my broken heart. Conversations, when your words inspire me and give me hope to begin again. Conversations, when in the middle, out of nowhere, it hits me how special you are. Conversations, when in your idiosyncrasy, I find my own identity. Conversations, when in your weirdness, I find a connection that I can’t let go of.

Conversations, the ones I wish I never had. Conversations, where you twist the one right word the wrong way and I am drenched in fury. Conversations, overshadowed by expectations, those that are too heavy to rescue me from hatred and unnecessary pain. Conversations, appropriately clever ones, the ones that manipulate me into doing something wrong without I being aware of it (until it’s too late) Conversations, that reek of my lost self esteem. Conversations, when I am conned, when I am disgusted, when I resolve to never talk to you again. Conversations, where you seem so brilliant that I jump out of sanity and drown myself in jealousy. Conversations, the ones I have never had and I would regret that throughout my life. Conversations, the ones I should have but I am too stupid and young to realize that. Conversations, which are precious but I might never know. Conversations which are non existent and utterly useless and yet they have my head occupied. Conversations, which kill dreams and aspirations and I let them. Conversations, which I am dying to have but I can’t form the sentences right. Conversations that draw you so close to me and those that throw you thousands of miles away.

Conversations. Self destructive as it may be but I am just a sucker for conversations.

Connecting the dots; A tribute to the past

So close, yet so far
trying to relive through the moments that will never come back,
Going distant, and distant and distant
like the milestones along the road growing small…

I am gazing through the back seat of a car,
and slowly forgetting where the milestones are…
it’s not fair,
these images in my head,
some existing and some diminishing
transforming into the vivid images of a beautiful dream I will soon forget,
it hurts when memories  exist,
it hurts even more when they slowly fade away;
My brain in a pitiable auto format mode,
only so much of Terabytes it can accommodate!
but  son! We can go to the front seat  and drive!
Look out for the milestones that will grow big instead of small,
We will make note of each one of them
until we pass by and again forget them all,
but don’t worry the road won’t end,
it simply won’t,
maybe the never ending journey won’t make sense,
maybe the past will haunt again,
maybe the future won’t seem bright
especially with beautiful images of the trail behind splashed all over inside,
maybe chaos will forever be chaos,
maybe the noise will never turn into symphony,
So what, son, so what?
come to the front seat,
don’t be seated at the back,
your reasons to stay are good,
and I have nothing better to argue,
but don’t waste too much time connecting the dots,
it will never make sense when you will want it to,
come at the front, we will have fun,
We will never talk about the dots!
We will never talk about the road!
And trails shall become a map, and dots an image,
One day, one day out of nowhere…
when you would have forgotten that you ever cared.