One step at a time.....

Let me take my time,
To wipe these tears.
Let me savour this pain,
Of having loved and lost.
Let me mend these wounds,
One stitch at a time.
Let me untie these bonds,
One thread at a time.
Let me erase your love,
One memory at a time.
Let me –
Just let me be alone.

heartbreak season -II

If you must,
Then go.
But tread slowly--
For you walk on my dreams.
If the shards of my broken dreams
Should make you falter
Sweep them aside
But do not stop.
If you should turn back -
Honey, i would be long gone.

heartbreak season...

You are but a touch away
But how do i bridge this chasm between us?
This thin line between love and hate—
Have we crossed it in a moment of passion?
We both lay,
Wrapped in this blanket of silence.
One move, one touch, one smile
It is all that would take to break this spell.
But we wait—
Prolonging this hell we are in.
We toss and turn and sigh in our sleep
Hoping the other would hear the pain
That echoes in the silence between us.
Wounded pride and broken hearts—
Is that all that remains of our love?

chunk candle

One of my babies!

gender confusion?!

His parents are coming over today – so we have been trying to clean up the place and make it spick and span. They are sticklers for neatness – everything has to be in its place and all that.

i, on the other hand, am untidy to say the least. Maybe it is having grown up with people always tidying up after me – at home, i had my big sisters; in hostel S used to tidy up the corner of my room; now he does the tidying up. i have books in every corner – read and leave them, that is my policy! Hell, i can’t even fold a shirt properly – not that i am proud of the fact! i could be possibly one of the worst home-keepers in this world. i seem to float around in my own world where mundane worries occupy no place. But, to my credit, when i do take up house cleaning – rare occasions indeed - i go the whole hog.

Sometimes, i wonder why it is that i have so few feminine traits – no, i don’t feel like a guy trapped in a woman’s body! i can’t stand perfumes – i breathe through my mouth when i am in a perfume shop much to S’ amusement -, am emotionally allergic to ornaments of any kind – i did go through a phase in college when i wore earrings and junk jewellery. Now the only thing i wear willingly (apart from clothes, that is!) is a platinum ring. i don’t like frilly garments. No wonder S tells me sometimes “Tumi ki meye (Are you a girl?)”! Hah!