And still you say, We need to meet once

“We met at the railway station or a bus-stop,

Or in that old church, on a Sunday Morning,

Early in the morning,

Late in the evening;

You ran behind the bus I took,

That old bus, with rusted stairs;

You jumped over the back stairs,

Watching me, from the back-window panes;

Or we met in those dark nights of my village,

Where I could not see your face;

Neither could you see mine,

You were the same stranger,

I smiled back, coming out of an ATM machine,

You were the same guy, who laughed aloud,

 While watching me,dancing alone in rains;

It was you, who lit that cigarette,

 On a cold evening, and I made a face,

You, then squashed it against your foot,

Seeing me, smiling back to you;

You kissed me, in your poems,

You painted my soul, on the walls of your room,

You heard my voice, with closed eyes,

You dreamed about me, with open eyes;

 It was you, whom I wanted to see,

Waking up in the morning,

Or before closing my eyes, in the night;

You heard me, laughing like crazy,

And, crying like an insane too,

You saw the most beautiful of me;

And the ugliest of me too;

You missed me,

 Around and inside you,

I felt you,

Around and inside me;

We fought hard like friends,

We fell in love like two teenagers and their first love,

We supported each other like an old couple,

And, we shared little moments like a newlywed.

We have almost lived a life with each other

And, still you say, we need to meet once.”


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