Bedroom

an aimless freedom

two skyless wings

a crumpled bedsheet

two untrue beings...

"Hate when guys go emo," She said annoyed

it’s annoying when a young boy starts liking a cute girl, his age... but, cannot gather enough courage to walk up to her and make a framed assertion in words...

it’s annoying to keep waiting for someone at lengths in one particular place – only to steal a glance or, perhaps, a smile – just because it accidentally happened some other day...

it’s annoying to stop the bus every day before it reached the terminus and buy candies from the same old shop just to ensure ‘she doesn’t have a dance class and will come to swim... it’s all the more annoying to eat those candies all by himself and not muster a chance to give her one – after all ‘heartbeat’ was just a toffee and not a metaphor...

it’s annoying to be the best in the group and yet record bad timings to get scolded by the coach stupidly because certain friends made him swear on how much he loved Her – “if she loves you, you will not come first in the next lap...”

it’s annoying to write the letters of Her name secretly on a book cover in a self-designed puzzle in sheer innocence... later, only to get solved by mom for a good long lecture (is there a different word for scoldings?)

it’s annoying to make stupid promises to the idol tagged 'God' and keep reminding him in prayers almost every single hour for her quick recovery from injuries after She lost to Hickery-Dickery-Dock to greet a cupboard upset... accident is such a small word...

it’s annoying to be immature and catch up a fight with his best buddy, not to talk ever again in the rest of the years, only because he once muttered a few words that had an air of disrespect towards Her...

it’s annoying to get teased by pals on how his ‘girl’ got prettier since she left playing in the waters and now, swings only to the tunes of the land and brighten up stages... and hence, the shows... she chose to tread in other grounds... perhaps, waded thereafter but gave up swimming...

it’s annoying to get willingly persuaded by naughtier counterparts for getting a ball out of a thorny bush... to impress Her, standing in the opponent team and fetch a bruise for a lifetime that’ll keep reminding – the sweet chivalry and perhaps, a gesture of concern in the corner of Her eyes... (hmmm, that is just a fabrication of thoughts that he derived as a consolation for the crimson droplets)

it’s annoying to keep believing that the southern part of the city was never too big to be able to find her someday... it was unrivalled a few known bus-stops – lanes – skyscrapers and a school...

it’s annoying to spend almost more than the entire pocket-money in cyber cafe-s in the prehistoric days of internet – the days when Orkut dwelled – searching for a profile by Her name or the likes...

it’s annoying to grow up one day, dawned with an idea that made him think he was far more intelligent than Archimedes and ‘eureka’ was so old school – “why not search for someone, who in turn can bridge the search for Her?” After ‘n’ number of unaccepted friend requests, a day brought an approval of friendship from Her namesake – reportedly from the same school but, a different section... As luck befell, she was helping enough to share a number – supposedly Her best friend’s...

it’s annoying to become unpardonably shameless to call on the dubbed angel’s number a day before leaving the city himself... And, his most courteous conversation ended with a promised request – “don’t let Her know about the incident ever, not by any chance...” A strange, weird feeling... She has had left the city even before and was happy with some Prince Charming... in some other lands...

the thirst perhaps, ended... the tryst perhaps, did not...

However, it was never annoying to know –

the purple of Her robe that she used to wear to the pool, the red of Her school uniform, the rolling hair-locks on her face and the prancing ponytail...

It was all the more not annoying to know –

that she was a dancing princess though he always had two left feet, that her best friend knew about him and that too all She told her, that She was still caring enough to accept the request at a place where closed faces become open books, that even after ages She made sure she didn’t talk to him and yet he never got ‘emo’...

An Answer

a glitter in her eyes was enough

for me to strive

till mie last day...

the wait wasted steer

was foolish and naive

learnt it late

and that too the wrong way...

an unjust smile on her lips

made me read --

the idiotic aimlessness

behind every

ambition;

the symbiotic juxtaposition

behind every

separation...

the embedded symphonies in

silence;

the warranted willingness in

refusal...

an unjust frown on her face

made me read --

the complex simplicities

behind every

truth;

the rigid reservations

behind every

freedom...

the wishful victories in

a defeat;

the implied questions in

an answer...