I'm not entirely sure if it's you I love
Or just the feeling of being in love.
Is it the taste of red wine
Or it's mild woozy high?

Cigarette buds
Empty glasses
Always a wine glass shatters
Leftover biryani
Leg bones
The crease in the beds
Sofa cushions on the floor
Guests have left
Empty house
Just me and the wait for the next weekend.

You are my favorite pitstop
O, airport bookshop.
A coffee in hand and a book in my lap
is all I need to feel on top.

If I can be somewhere
At any given time, anywhere,
I would like to be
In the shop of coffee.

A coffee shop
Bustling with the noises
Of all ages.
Alive with the aroma,
Of a fresh brew
Smelling also of the
Baked bread, cookies, and cakes
Is my favorite escape.

I think a coffee shop
Is the perfect prototype
Of all life.
I enjoy looking at strangers
and wonder
what are their stories?
A girl and a boy
perhaps
met here for the first time.
A bunch of girls laughing
their hearts out.
A young romance
budding in excitement.
An old couple
sitting together in silence
speaking of the love of a lifetime.
A bunch of guys
after an exciting match
Sitting here to cool off and relax
Bringing in the boyish charm.

I love a coffee shop
Especially the quaint ones
With a local touch, rustic vibes
And an old man.
I love a coffee shop
In the quiet corner,
Or the city center.

I love a coffee shop
Anywhere in the world
Because I am happy in one.

You were once
my hopeful future.
Now just
a subject of my hopeless poem.

Started a new job in a new company
this week was all about pleasantry.
"Hello, welcome", they said
I am so and so and you?
Ah and are you married?
When I say 'No' the introduction just seems to end
Like marriage and kids is the only identity.
A woman does not exist without it?
I am a person, I have more to me.
Ask me about my education, my passions
or just my city.
A plain "Tell me about yourself" will also do.
So I can chose what I share with you.
Just don't start with your old age reflections of my tribe.
There is an abominable traditional vibe 
And it needs to change.

So much misery
Such less poetry
Makes it hard to live fully
Hence, I write freely
To make the cosmos glee.