Rectangles

It was unassuming, when we first talked,
Not quite a love story, my mind mocked
Goosebumps, the reds and the pinks absent,
Nothing extraordinary about the time spent

The texts became longer as the clock ticked,
At some time we both felt something clicked
Rectangles stored the vibes of our thoughts,
But yet I never expected being tied in a knot

Finding trust and assurance in those texts,
We both wondered what is next!
Unruly kids, Sandy, Yellow dal and sleep
I gushed on the your stories, so deep


Simple, at times mundane without any frills,
You told me about your bargaining skills

Your stern yet sweet way to speak,
Did not let the interaction become weak

Your visage appeared on those shapes,
From shy beings, we did graduate
"Bakwaas" poured down like it was rain,
Your laugh and tough looks became my cocaine

When the chords of your heart play,
Even silence has something to say
I just became glued to the tune,
Wanted to see you in even soon



We did meet, albeit scanty,
But the feelings were aplenty
We both promised to take the plunge,
Knowing that miles we'd need to challenge

Notwithstanding the differences, I started to feel,
With our resolve, distance would kneel
The rectangles bore testimony to our craziness,
Clarity did substitute haziness


Just a few hours together suffice at times,
To make promises for seven lifetimes
The miles don't feel weird anymore,
Because the loves comes to the fore


Seeing you in those little rectangles,
Six inches of weird angles
It aches but I wait for the spree,
One day, you'll be here, with me...





Written for someone special

Apostrophe

Stepping out on the tarmac,
As the new winds struck my visage.
Chasing the dreams I yearned for,
Felt like finally coming off age.

The cobbled streets and grand structures,
Pristine scapes all around.
The manicured views I saw,
Made my love more profound.

The dreams engulfed myself,
The infinity seemed near.
World was my playground,
Life felt on top gear!

The daily chore continued,
As I beyond the confined.
Flying like a bird, oblivious,
To what I had left behind.

Days, months of the living,
Though elite and plush.
Could not filled a void,
That I yearned so much...

The balmy rural dawn,
The warmth of mother's lap.
Life seemed a farrago,
Like a flautist trying to rap.

The wild weed of my farm,
Felt like the jasmines and the lilly.
The exodus from my courtyard,
Seemed like a step so silly.

It felt like a pursuit,
To betray my own soul.
In this labyrinth of connecting the missing dots,
I had created a new hole.


Reflection of my roots,
The memories of the trail.
The irascible me could not be contained,
With this fairytale.

Imperfection never seemed so complete,
I stared at the dark zero.
I needed my fountainhead to yell,
That I was indeed a hero...



This poem was shortlisted under poetry category by the reputed Wordweavers magazine in 2019