Blissfully inhaled and exhaled

Each of the mornings  I have passed across your place Have searched for you If you are standing for the rail Or awaiting someone's presence If just strolling around with morning breeze Or re-living a nostalgia  Once moment. Each of the mornings I have passed across your street The sleepy eyes are a-bit more awake Incase your smile meets them Like it used to  In the early morning classes Lost in dreams All sleepy and hangover souls Sitting besides eachother Facing a machine mockingly smiling at us And we lazy enough to break the ice And hence smiles fly from east to west and west to east. Each of the mornings I have passed across your place A face lost in his world and tried of catching early rail Reminds me of you, Ignorant of the surrounding But still grasping each of the happenings Not saying much  But enough to be heard  The smirk or shy face covered with loud smile When she said you were looking...

There was something That kept you to me There was something That holded you from hurting me There was something That shook you when I was sad There was something That kept me awake thinking of you There was something That you heard me always rather giving a deaf hear There was something That bothered my beats , for the thought if you are fine on your corner There was something You never hated me literally There was something That we both thought Something exist , Getter than strangers Lesser than love Unconvincing to be called just friends

Gripping your shirt, When you are about to leave. Gripping it tight enough To let go off my fears, When scared by scene of 2:30 am Or gossiping silence. Gripping your collar To hold you against me, To minimise the space when in glee of having you as mine. Gripping it for longest, When in mess & Sacred that you might walk away, Not yelling or fighting enough to be with me. That grip would be my way of saying Rather insisting you to stay. In silence. In choas. In bad moods. In love.

The city which taught her alot. Not because she had seen more of the streets than the walls of her house, But because this city breathes alot. It has no phases of the day when it can sit, Just sit doing nothing. Like the girl by the signal sitting with gajlas but not earning. Like the boy with balloons, not playing but selling. Like the lady carrying the baby, not in the baby vehicle but draped against her waist. Like grandpa sitting with blank cloth on the floor and blank eyes amid the wrinkles and stretched smiles. This city is made of water! Water- not carrying the concert wall but is the base, the roots you say. Foreigners , residents and of course the so called love birds sit along the shore. Some quite with life. Some fussing over others existence and ignorant of their own. Some capturing it into the lens. No, not the retina but the lens which are evident to the beauty of the place she resides. And the love birds the lead players of different Trailers to be f...

Empty spaces don't exists for her. Voids are never hollow tunnels to her. Roads with less movings wheels, Or roads with crowded windows Don't exist for her. The breeze , they say is not visible to us, But unlike the visible humans; The breeze holds the strength to take you, On the spot where your heart is. Of course its beating in you, But our hearts beat less for us and more for them. .THEM. Firstly for family, When heart pumps blood and Mind focuses on strategies to make you known. But when both mind and heart decide to take their own paths, It's bit difficult to have your own path. Holding mind in one hand & Grabbing the heart before it flies in another. The spaces are filled with nostalgia. The voids force her to built her future in it. The breeze never failed to taunt her that, She is leaving behind a very important part of hers. It's beats in us, but not for us. Ironically mind is ours, But we don't follow it. And heart is not ...

No, she wasn't jealous of the girls you were talking to, But was bothered if any of them took your hand. No, she wasn't jealous of your so called girl friend, But she was bothered if their was no conversation with her. No, she was not jealous of people seeing you everyday, But she was bothered of empty circle. You never moved her, Until one day when she saw your literal smile. Until one day when the purple kurta was shining bright against your shoulder. She wasn't shook of the happenings in your 24 hour, Until that pinch of turmeric was glowing against your cheeks. She was least bothered of your presence, Until one day she knew you were planning to leave. She wasn't free enough to sense you, Until one day when bye came up sooner than a hello. The irony is the farewells did all the magic rather a hello.

Skies take away the lines from the forehead But the hearts evolved in 90's Still are bothered by 20's blue-ticks But when scanning the queue of the Stressed teens A few were found admiring the- Long roads Empty page But obvious green trees But even the tree with only branches & no leaves Distant hill tops Curtained windows The boy tossing the bottle The girl smiling , For some reasons adoring the sun The lights on the cell were becoming The disco lights of the dance floor. But he was ignorant of it. Rejoicing with - Blue ink Neither open nor closed dairy Dancing pen Tapping legs