A door ...
That wooden door...
Would you open it for me?
Together, let's explore the world.
Would you like to feel the city's allure?

Among fishes, among butterflies...
Are you still searching?
Let's search it together – the meaning of life.

Up and above in the blue sky,
Let's feel the flight of the birds.
Let's ride them like wild horses.
Beyond the who, the what, and the why,
Let's dive like dolphins,
Underneath the brimming summer,
Feeling the hot breeze skimming water,
Pacing over that cold sand
Like an Olympic runner...

Just beyond that door—
Gazing with my eyes,
Far and wide.
Still searching?
Then let's search it together – the meaning of life.

A thought that waved through me.
As those sea animals sailing in that pond,
woe returned to me—
My perched state upon that tree.
Apart from my loneliness —which was on a spree.
I talked my world to the beings with no voices.
'Brurr brurr' was the only answer,
But with sound reasons and no noises.

I tried to calm myself, Iike water does.
Just listening to the hisses,
Which gills do.
I asked questions which were fishy gibberish.
The fishes replied to me,"Do you even know English?
The lost is gone but through hope it can be found.
Treasure those memories even if you don't feel like sticking around.
For those reverend moments,
Are part of your fate, your destiny—

Your living story is just a dot in this universe.
Maybe you used to be a romeo either in past or in any other multiverse.
A Romeo of dreams.
A Lover boy...
And an idiot who talks to nature.
Was it a fleeting or a misadventure?

Talkative fishes now, swam to the other side.
Leaving me alone with my story.
But with hope towards that bright light.
Little more gibberish
Little more garbage.
will you write with me?

Drenched in the memory
Of you...
I mimic you to feel close to you.
In this drama,
in the theatre of my dreams
I act badly...
I lost you- my audience, sadly
Sitting next to this window.
The rain cries with me.
I think it was in love with you madly.
Sipping my cup of tea.
Reliving that moment,
The one when you set my soul free.
I know you hate my name.
Do I somehow bring you shame?
Apologies for my heritance,
A legacy of pretense and pain
For being less than what you've  became.

Mocking that chandelier up in the sky.
He was also hanging lonely like me—
Knowing that,
We gave each other high five!

Disgusting the concept of love and longings.
We both were losers, half trained players
Who now live in disguise.

Perched on a tree like birds do—
I was sitting near that pond.
Being the best critics for every dove couple.
In that cafe, they were sharing their feelings all along.

Looking at those fishes,
Before starting my rantings that I learnt by heart.
A fish yelled at me, hey! You idiot, What's wrong?
Surprised and confused—
I lost my expressions
I lost my fuse
Whether I felt disgust or in awe?
What was that outlaw?

Then she asked, "Are love poems meant to be hidden?
Then why are they supposed to be written?.
A sudden thought popped up in her mind.
Why do you hide your thoughts from me?
There is a fault in your design

Maybe it is just you, not them
Who lives in his own false notion.
You are a victim of your own dreams.
You're totally out of proportion.

Love is a game of divinity,
Just out of brevity.
Let me define— it is a game of giving it all.
Not to receive.
It is not a post to resign.
It is not a post to resign."

They wrote your love poems
On the walls of Taj.
A monument,  once reigned by love raj.
A reverie of my own dream.
Did you notice that natural spotlight on our dancing queen?
The grooves, the moves.
Those twisted gestures.
For a bit longer, for this dream—
Longer I snooze.

This time the picture was not vague.
My eyes seized your face.
Impressed and perplexed—
My overwhelmed emotions stirred my reflex.
Unknowingly I moved my hand towards you
Interrupting the rhythm, the flow.
Just to touch you.

Like bees attract to flowers
You mesmerized my soul—
Do we dance like lovers do?
Would it be true?—
Was it not a dream?—
Was it just me and you?

I wrote 199 poems just about you.
A discounted price tag—
People watched our movie,
With a ticket saying 1 by 2.
A motion picture of happiness tinged with rue.
Struggle, tears, excitement, and adventures new.
I wrote 199 poems just about you.

I wrote my dreams about you,
Adding mountains, valleys,
Who witness with me—my fleetings true.
All my poems just say about...
You, you, and you.

Yippee!
I wrote 199 poems just about you.

What does the longings say?

I am a memory.
A Lingering dream,
A gift from satan—
for being with a fairy.
You stay in me a bit longer than a moments few.
I am a reason for your happiness
In a shade of rue.
I live in your poems, verses and art.
Are you still writing one?.
I am ready to start.