Contagious Love

IMG_20160602_195525Love is contagious.
Every time the void shrinks, between us,
It infects me like a virus.
We barter breathes and bath in warm cuddles.
Every drenching kiss,
spurs euphoria in my blood
and bursts every vessel.
All those seemingly short talks,
confiscate my intellect
and a labyrinth of emotions triggers.
We wither our bodies
and relish in incurably morbid hearts,
convalescence of which will never be quenched.

The Stranger

“An old lady, I saw her amble everyday down the street I awaited for the bus at. The same sallow saree she would wear each day and gift me a smile as she passed by, which I would return curiously. The corrugations on her skin spoke of wisdom but her name, was oblivious. A week it had been, since, she was last seen and eeriely enough it perturbed me. “What if she had migrated or passed..”, but the musings and speculations were futile for I could never know what had become of her. Needles can’t prick wind, I’d assumed and yet it pricked me, the absence of a stranger I had known only the smile of.

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The wait

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He reached out for his old fashioned spectacles resting on the side table with his trembling hand. He wore them and gawked at the ancient clock. It was time, he knew, so he grabbed his walking stick and ambled with his exhausted feet down the boulevard. He stopped by to buy a rose and continued strolling. Soon, he reached the rendezvous, where she had been waiting for him. He knelt down, gifted her the rose and smiled as a tear dripped down his wrinkled cheek. Thirty years, thirty roses and yet not a word from her. This time, he hoped that she would speak or even whisper, but how could she? Her name was engraved on a tombstone, just the way it was engraved on his heart.

High

She was high,
drunk with vehemence and fervour.
She was reckless as an ocean and incessant as a storm.
She was a colossal naked soul
which even panoramic eyes couldn’t perceive.
She was a vestibule full of frenzy
and a verse even Shakespeare couldn’t think of.
She never strived for marijuana,
she could puff on her breath
and be high on her life.

She was high,
drunk with vehemence and fervour.
She was reckless as an ocean and incessant as a storm.
She was a colossal naked soul
which even panoramic eyes couldn’t perceive.
She was a vestibule full of frenzy
and a verse even Shakespeare couldn’t think of.
She never strived for marijuana,
she could puff on her breath
and be high on her life.