Metamorphosis

What if you never became
The butterfly you were meant to be?
What if you never came out
Of your tiny oyster shell?

What if you never had
The wings to fly?
What if your cocoon
Was all you saw in life?

Would you miss the things
That never belonged to you?
Or would you be happy
In the warmth and shade of your world?

Silence

Music blaring
on maximum volume.
The noise outside
Trying to drown
The noise within.
To ebb the flow
Of thoughts.
To ebb the gush
Of pent-up emotions.

Us and Them

How strange it is

That you and I

Should let Society's whims

Decide where our future must lie.

How strange that our love,

Pure and unblemished,

Must need this stamp

Before it can be cherished.

How strange that our love,

Which has blossomed forever

Must prove its mettle,

Like a writer, an amateur.

How strange that We, 

Who have seen perfect happiness, and more;

Must seek approval from those

Who believe two hearts cannot forever soar.

Crush

From constant facebook pokes
To staring away at you
Blissfully in class
(Luckily you haven't noticed yet-
Or have you?)
To hanging on to every piece of gossip
That has anything to do with you.
I can never have enough of you.

You're my new favourite toy.
Let's see how long you remain
At the top of my list.

With or Without

It was strange how empty her world was without him. And yet, she mused, the emptiness was better than the suffocation.

Stage Fright

A gazillion pairs of eyes
Staring right at me.

Scrutinizing me from tip to toe
As I walk slowly:

Hair neatly braided,
And a tunic faultlessly ironed.

I know what I want to say
Like I know the back of my hand.

And yet, as I look up
To face the crowd

The stage swims in front of my eyes,
And my courage flies out of the window.

Indifference

Lying on my bed,

I stare.

The walls, the ceiling,

The discoloured paint.

Outside my window,

Seasons go by.

And yet,

Nothing touches my soul.

Growing up

It's silly how I feel

The need to hold your hand

At every crossing

And guide you across every lane.

I can see 

That you no longer need

My mothering

But old habits die hard.

You're no longer the little boy

You once were;

You've grown up

But I haven't.

You're embarrassed

To have me around

Fussing over

In front of your friends.

And yet

This is what I've done for years.

Where do you expect me to go

And make a new start?

Unfathomable

I used to think

When I fall in love

I'd finally figure

What the word meant.

I'd finally gain

That worldly wisdom

That seems to characterize

Those who've been there,

Done that.

It's amusing

How the word

Still confounds me.

And how little I understand,

Or know of love,

Apart from feeling

A strange sense of senility

When I look at young lovers

With dreams in their eyes

And a spring in their steps.

It's hard to remember

Exactly when

You became

The fulcrum of my life.

When your happiness

Began to matter

More than anything else

In the world.

When a crease

On your forehead

Became sufficient to cast
The rest of the world in gloom.

When a smile
On your face
Started to take
My breath away.

It’s hard to remember
Exactly when
I fell for you.
And yet
Each day I realise
I’m falling more in love
With you.

Tipping Point

You come back and ask me

What went wrong.

I don't really have an answer

Except that

I'd had enough.

It kept building up

Till I reached

My tipping point.

I took it all lying down

Which is probably why

You didn't notice

When you crossed your line.

You didn't notice

When I decided to call it quits.

Rain:

Swift and sudden!

A convenient garb

For silent tears.

Fire:

Soft and warm

A funeral pyre

For rusty memories.

Bride:

Beautiful and embellished

By morning, a victim

Of drunken excesses.

Passive Drinking

That unsteady step

As you walk in

Late at night.

Those reddened eyes

As you try to focus

On the door knob.

That slur in your voice

As you talk to me

Unaware of what you speak.

That recklessness in your manner

Which you will forget

Before you wake up tomorrow.

That unguardedness in your action

As you stand without consciousness

Unaccountable for all you do.

They say passive smoking hurts more

Maybe passive drinking does too;

For I can neither forget nor forgive.

Maybe I should stop you

From your daily little trips

Down those meandering lanes.

Or maybe, I should start with some too.

Perhaps, to abstain is worse: it must be better

To drink and forget.

Across The Table

We sat across the table.

The cold, wooden surface

Filled the space between us.

We had a lot in common.

I had made mistakes.

So had you.

I was wronged.

So were you.

We wondered as we sat there.

If I got up

And walked over

To your side

I would see

What the world looked like

To you.

We got up without a word.

I walked away.

So did you.

I never looked back.

Nor did you.

We had both wronged one another.

Do two wrongs make a right?

I refused to give it a chance.

So did you.