The night lamp was turned on.
Our photo by my side was dimly lit but visible.
Moving on thoughts got carried away.
Left arm was not searching for her.
It dabbled over the glasses and the paper
“To Maple” was completed.
The pen kissed the next paper.
Its cruel to ask the pen to move on too.
Let the kiss last.
To keep a journal is not my way
To forget happens all day.
To the first word of every line.
To memories, that I think are now only mine.
If you find sometime.
Help me forget you, us and all this
To the hours of us doing nothing…
Ok! Stargazing, maybe.
To the Tea-Bags and the Sugar-Cubes you are really generous about.
To the Laundry Days, I need to be around and talk you through, when you worry about the coffee stain on your favourite-tee.
To the ‘Bye’, ‘I am leaving’, ‘I am seriously going’ ‘Ok! Bye’ and kicking me out after ‘Should I really go’.
To Waking you up after the Old Monk
and lying that you were not creepy after the 4th round.
To responsible discussions where we convinced each other cleverly!
And we could never convince ourselves.
To the cozy blanket, that saved us from reality and where my words were prohibited.
To the Romantic Burgers and Double-Cheese One-liners.
To all the moments I forgot and you might remind me.
Drive me there.
I would tell
I can read maps so well while you are driving us.
I don’t care about how you drive
Because, I too don’t have experience reading maps
Let’s get lost one more time.
Trying to forget
And remembering things more
is not a crime.
“Sands of Time” denote memories.
Remember the beach sand that entered your shoe and never really left.
The crushed paper was sent to where it belongs.
The thoughts could not be sent, because
that is where the promises belong.
And we fail trying to keep up with promises.