Going through my old notebook.
Page by page,
Line by line,
I found phrases I wrote for you —
Raw but true.
Some lines, which even today,
Brought me back to my rue.

My book was pointing towards
An unsung outcry,
Asking me questions — unsolved,
Poking me to answer: “The why?
Hey! Give it a try!”

I found some paragraphs — meaningless.
They have just lost their tenderness.
Stories of my loved adversaries,
Poems about my daunting memories.

They say my book is petrifying,
For it has some pages with moments —
Electrifying.
It still has some pages empty,
Yellow and old,
Stating and defining my dreams —
The stories that remained untold.

Everytime you give me a new song.
A tune - unheard
Unwinding my tangled nerves.
Beats conjuring through their magical verse
The music of heavenly earth.
Butterflies singing in chorus.
Styled flowers performing the lead.
Under the canopy of the piano leaves.
Farm animals playing the violin
A Sonata of relief.
Moon is the curator-
And trees are on guitar
Our twinkling star playing mandolin
Birds -singing their tweet from afar.
A moment gloomy or a moment of shine.
You take me back to our best musical time

Who is she?
She is one of a kind.
She dwells on earth, a figure- celestial.
Once you see her, memories keep up the rewind.

Who is she?
A question that I ask when she stands strong-
A warrior that this world has ever known.

Who is she?
She is the one who does creation-Unique.
Art finds its peak
A way so rare, A way - antique
Beauty admires its own revelation.

Who is she?
She is the one who writes in a way
That lyrics find their own rhyme.
Changing and challenging the rhythm divine.

Who is she?
She is a champion of all-
Yet humble and cheerful.
"Don't anger her" that will lead to your fall.

Who is she?
She is the one who questions herself
Asking"who is she?"
While listening to that same old song.

Who is she?
A soul thief, the one who made me feel as a whole.
For I was a scathed scar.
She embraced me like a tattoo from a famous stand.
A guy who was just a  burn on a hand

My friends and I, we rowed a boat.
Over a lake
Brimming with beauty – unnatural.
Floating and paddling over the greenish water.
The smiles and laughter.
The rhetorical jokes we cracked
after and after—

Funnier faces we made
Splashing water on each other like an ace.
What's on earth, was wrong with us?
Like toddlers, we played.
After few moments, we parked the boat.
And sat near a shade.
Four young lads, away from the work.
They took a replenishing break.

Thinking and sharing
About their fantasies and of course about some troubles.
But in each other's company
Fantasies got their grace.
And troubles, they went giggling into rubbles.

The mood and the setting—
When we were deciding what we wanted to eat.
It was similar to how girls buy dresses for a wedding – neat.
It was a different day
Segueing from our daily chores.
What more can I write about this day?
No words to allure this moment
Forever preserved in my core.
Forever preserved in my heart for sure.

I am not a poet.
I cannot dance to the lyrics of the ballad.
I cannot pen a haiku immersive—
I write longings of you,
a passionate cursive.
For I read it somewhere, "For in every universe, there is you for me."
And for me, you are the universe.

I pushed hard to meet you.
Even prayed to the wishing bell,
Just to greet you.
I wrote letters, I wrote poems,
Wrapped in an envelope —
Should I show 'em?

Waiting for you to say, “What’s up?”
Pulled antic actions and strummed some rocking notes.
I still didn’t get your vote.
Peacocking all the time,
For a glimpse, for a smile.
Nevertheless, everything was in vain.
Down from the ceiling,
Laid crashed on the road —
An unwanted disdain.

I thought for long,
And reached this conclusion:
Beauty — yes, I could see it everywhere.
Because for me, beauty is you.
It is not me that brims within me,
But you.
Maybe your heart didn’t find me fit as a pair.
Like always, I was left alone — like a spare,
Without a piece of your heart.
It lies in his only lair.