In this weather,
I wish we were strangers.
I wish the falling drops,
Erased everything we've ever done.
All the fights,
Even delights,
All the pain,
The little first memories.
I want them all erased clean.
I want to stand under a mango tree,
On a rainy night.
I want you to be sitting,
At a nearby dhaba,
Taking shelter, looking at me.
I want myself to smile,
As you smile at me.
I want the power to go off,
The winds to blow hard.
I want fate to stir the pots once again,
I want the churning to be harder.
I want us to melt together.
In this weather.
You can call this a blog. I call it scribble pad. Cheers to broken nibs and disfigured brushes.
Wednesday, 24 June 2015
In this weather
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