for one more day

say you will stay.
humour me.
let us live the lie
if only for one more day.
and when tomorrow morning
my roving hand finds 
your side of the bed empty
it would be 
the truth i should have woken up to
a long time ago.

passing time

garrulous minutes
fill a lonely hour.
Nostalgia.

a memory

A silent memory speaks to me. "I wish to go", she says. "Its time", they say. I nod and untie the little knot at the end of my dupatta. I hear her fly in a hazy sigh.  And yet what is it that lingers in the creases of the dupatta whose ends remain entangled long after?

this and that

you know what's tiring?
this. 
ah, but now it has become that.
now if this were that...
but then again, it is, isn't it?

if only life were signified
by something other than 
this tiresome fluidity -
or is it that?

the wishful rebel

but how would i know its time?
i see signs all around -
what signal am i waiting for?
nobody's told me the password
i never learnt the code 
(i am certain there must be one)
i stand looking at the fading horizon at dawn
and gaze at the burning crimson at nightfall
i keep turning around 
expecting a tap on my shoulder.
there has got to be one.
how else will i know, right?

i ask my heart

it is not your loss to grieve
it is not your grief to mourn
then why do you ache,
why do you feel heavy?
tell me .. i want to know.
the silent sadness of the heart
is all i get.

i am talking to you...

Stop me.
so i can go on.
Laugh at me.
so the tears arent afraid to flow.
hope for me.
so i know its the end of the road.
take me seriously.
so i can play through life.
respect me.
so i can roll in the mud.
reassure me.
so i wait for nothing anymore.
define me.
and watch me break free.