Skip to main content

for it ended then.

He’d hoped for a perfect day
Of dirty shoes and a long walk
While she had made plans
To drink coffee and talk

He sat behind the curtain
Altered by the sugar
Took questions one by one
Without a perfect answer

He almost never had one
She whimpered on
Walking about restlessly
Without any footwear on

He had nothing to ask
But the one that made her shudder
It wasn’t her love for dogs
But why she sang in the shower
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Where are you from?

"Strange stuffs happen all around you, and only if you had that one moment to stop and notice it.....then whaatt , you'd be a BLOGGER then" :p Yesterday the age old question again popped up from an oh-so-handsome(wish he didn't have a girlfriend) guy sitting opposite to me in the Jamnagar-Surat Intercity Express, (Indian Railways should give me discount coupons now!), while his girlfriend sat beside him grumbling about the quality of air-conditioning in Indian trains and the lousy platform junk food (do not blame me, it was her! I love having bhajiyas at the baroda station when I am travelling with my roommate or someone else).               Alright, here i wander away again. That is my new 'beemaarri'. I start with something, i drift away to something and end up with something else which has nearly no connection with what i started with. My friend Arihant thinks I need to consult a ...
9 comments
Read more

Worldly Woes!

I wanted to tell you that how my life is full of random moments. Why? because it's a better thing to start than saying "yes! I am back again" Yet again .  Well, it doesn't take the wits of a rocket scientist to figure out that this blog has been dysfunctional for quite some time now - very much close to FIVE months. And I have no idea why did I stop scribbling on this blog and when? It just happened. Like falling out of love. Somewhere it felt like a chore and I grudgingly dragged my feet along. all so much so that I did keep up the charade of constantly reminding myself that such a space existed and my regular readers (yes! you can laugh to that) would be missing me. With time, washed away many disillusions, for no one actually missed my constant banter.  That is what pushed this space into an existential crisis and I had no time to figure out answer to any of the questions it asked.  Now that I have explained well about my absence, does this cou...
9 comments
Read more

One cup Robin Sharma, Pleaase!

Obviously you can trust me when I say that I will post everyday albeit regularly with the same degree of trust when your boyfriend who has been cheating on you says "This was just one time, it was a mistake!! I plomish baby never again. Pleeeej trust me" The other day I was making cupcakes and a thought flew by. Wish the world had an Instant Cupcake Maker; you know the way we have Instant Coffee Maker Machine or the Soda-Maker Machine. Then you have books that could be turned into machines Robert Allen's One Minute Millionaire . One button, one minute AaannDD you are a freaking Millionaire. If the height of spirituality increases anymore then we ought to have a " Instant Robin Sharma Maker Machine ", button dabaya aur bas! You could get a cup full of instant spirituality, self discovery and even an FIR report on "Which monk sold whose Ferrari and where did he steal it from" for a certain MRP with Service Tax. Talk about spirituality and not me...
8 comments
Read more