I need to talk

To you.
Who's been not listening,
Hearing every word,
At the ear, but not the heart.
And I have fallen in love
Because I've fallen in love
With you.
Its difficult
To be someone
Like you
Words are stolen
From you

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dilli

I had always ridden pillion on my dad's scooter, rode an auto-rickshaw with my mother or caught the school bus. But that afternoon it was going to be a challenge for me. I had to take a public bus to get back from school. I confess I was scared. I knew the way back home, but I didn't know which bus stop to get down on. Was it before the flyover or was it after the flyover. Finally I walked the last 2 kilometers back. But that bus ride gave me the confidence to explore the city I will love. I started driving to college alternate days. So every alternate day I could bunk college. Every alternate day, I could do every Delhi boy loves to do. Turn on the speakers on full blast and listen to the only good tape you have. Every alternate day I could weave past traffic and feel like stud. Every alternate day I could be hunting for a place to park my car in front of the college. But the every alternate day I took the bus, it used to be slightly different. I could to talk one of my frien...
Read more

A handful of joy

Have you ever tried to pick a lump of smooth sand on the beach ? I have done it so many times, and every time it feels like a whole new beginning. An absolute start. But then it starts to trickle out of your hand, through the fingers. And you thought you will have that lump in your hand for ever. Even when you knew practically that lump of sand can never stay in your hand, you held on to it. Somehow I had held on to a lump of sand in my hands in the early years of my life. And that lump of sand of was the prized part of this earth. It was in my hands. And probably that lump of sand hated it that I thought that she was in my hands. She hated that feeling that 'I' 'have' the sand in 'my' hands. The sand thought of my hands as a cage. And so those little silica particles, sparkling bright, smooth and sweet cold feeling of it , just found a space between my fingers. I always have thought that my hands were soft. The best palms to read, kiss and hold. But this nature...
Read more

Last play

About the very first time, I remember this - Walking into a lush green park, through a revolving gate, not knowing what is planned by those 11 other kids. I was 6 and I had never played football. So I was promptly put in charge of the goalkeeping department in a six-a-side game of football. The defender of the space between two trees. And if you think I was just standing there, picking my nose - you are wrong - I was picking up the game. I was superman, I flew here and there, threw myself to do my duty. I was a celebrity within 15 mins. My eyes became bigger at the sight of the ball coming towards me. And slowly I started realizing that I am not a goalkeeper. It's not only the eyes, my feet started to itch, to leave the haven of the box which gave you the privilege of using your hands. Just then I saved another goal and this time I was about to revolt. Some folks would remember that there used to be wonderful term called "flying goalchie". Fly I did. I don't remember ...
Read more