Love Poems
-
The walls are hostile and the faces cold,Where hidden malice watches every stride;Within this bitter grip I am controlled,By sharp intentions that they cannot hide.
-
I walk the narrow lanes of childhood years,Where every corner holds a shadowy trace.A sudden ghost of forgotten memory appears,And maps this native landscape to your face.
-
Surrounded here by faces sharp and cold,I try to navigate the tasks of this grim phase,In jarring streets where bitter hours unfold,And many trivial errands clutter up the days.
-
Context: She dislikes mashed potatoes. She’d starve, or consume just fries, but won’t ever touch mashed potatoes.
-
Even if there’s nothing left, I’ll continue writing here, in hopes she may someday read.
-
The phrase was closer once, a quiet weightSpoken in rooms where time would slow its pace.“Tum mera sukoon ho” — a fixed estate,The very baseline of a solitary space.
-
Context: What happens when nothing you say helps?
-
Context: What do you do, if someone miles away has a panic attack?
-
Context: She likes fairy lights.
-
Context: She takes coffee breaks at work, and prefers if I’m on call, having coffee with her, virtually.
-
Context: She boards the University’s shuttle bus everyday as part of her daily commute. With her headphones always plugged on, she narrates the stops and the surroundings to me on phone. The noisy ambience makes it difficult to hear, but we still keep the calls on. While returning, the same shuttle takes a 10-min stop midway – which she dislikes, for she is tired after a long day.
-
Context: The printer has been acting up at work of late; she hasn’t been able to print her charts and graphs to show to her supervisor. So she eventually decides to fall-back to the iPad.