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“There is now a distance, pressing quite persistent, May be only inches apart, but as if an artery is blocked. There now seem some secrets, a word which was earlier so needless. May be they now laugh so less, and even in summers, the air between them feels dense. Who connects? Who neglects? Barely matters when you are no more friends.”

“I don’t have any fancy story, about the way we fell in love. It was that one awkward move, and the next I remember, I was looking at you. I don’t have any fancy allegory, about how we decided to marry, It was over the deck of that cruise, that you made an awkward move, And the next I remember, I conceived in your eye, some purer truth, and I was looking at you. I don’t have any fancy history, about how I know you so deeply, It always was that one awkward move, which I have trusted to pursue. Who said lovers are complex? All you need is their, one awkward move. Their soul in an instant, is engulfed, In that one tick of drool. That’s all what love is, that one awkward move, which is only meant only for you.”

“I have started looking into the mirror more often. I have pigmentation, a few blemishes. My body never looked like this, never felt like this- heavy, tired, exhausted, swollen, achy, weak. There are a million reasons to not like myself right now. But one reason that outgrows all these emotions- I am the first home to my baby. A woman can dislike her body, can she really dislike her baby’s abode? Therefore, I love the way it’s swelling- it gives my baby’s tiny arms and legs more space. I love the way it’s pigmenting, it gives my baby better protection from the sun. I love the way it’s exhausted, it prioritises baby’s nutritional requirements over mine. And I would love all the stretch marks in the end too. That’s my baby’s name plate at his first home.”

“She stampeed. “I am making him run late.” She gave a resolution of exact 60 seconds to herself to see if she can find her diamond necklace or else she would attend the party with out it. She suddenly turned, as if her memory shouted out loud- Its on the chest right there! To her bewilderment, he was standing just a few inches away holding a big mirror in hand. That perplexed her. Not Adam. Not even the fact that her neck was already hosting the necklace. But seeing herself that way, her very own self. As if, she was unapprehended she existed. Adam was expecting a smile on her face, and that she would touch the necklace and say- “Oh my foolish self” but she touched her face and said- “Oh my self...” That was foolish!”

“He is deaf, and keen to accept, any economical operation, that will correct his situation. He visited the doctor best, and started talking on subject, like the after-effects, and if any threats. The doctor medically checked, and asked him what he expects? He expressed, he wants to be addressed- in words, and not in signs. And how keen he is, to have his ears listening. He wants to listen the echo of, sun-set over that crimson dawn. He is keen to know, the sound of, a blooming rose. He wants to know what it sounds like, when a seedling grows. But Doctor- if you say: You are incapable, then I better get away, for then there is- nothing worth to be heard, in your seemingly wordy world.”

“There would be, half a million things, I could do, yet I don’t know, what would be so? When I will see you, for the first time, calm, twined in your daddy’s arm, coming towards me, I could do, half a million things- caress your skin, fondle your chin, stroke though your limbs, smoothly touch your lips, and make my silent wishes, for your health and, your intellect. Half a million things, I could do, yet I don’t know, what would be so? When I will see you, for the first time, I could say, half a million things- call you my kid, read a fine script, whisper love in your ears, sing a hymn. Half a million things, I could say, yet I don’t know, what would be so? I fear though, what if I am unable to, do any of this, and all I end up with, is, just a knot of tears, loaded with, some of the most pure prayers, I have ever chaired. Half a million things, I could do and I could say, yet when it happens, little will my practice play. Half a million things, and I wouldn't know, how and where one begins.”

“And sometimes when I tilt my head, in that deep sleep, I realize I forgot to tell you what happened at work, in the thick of, all other rubbish daily stuff. And then I hate to believe, it’s more than 5 hours to hit the snooze, and now suddenly the night seems longer- than any lazy afternoon. I want to talk to you now, before I forget How I have imagined you will react, word by word, And act by act. But I kind of manage dozing off in a few minutes, And I clearly forget it morning, This entire instance. But tonight- when you are asleep, and I am Wide awake like a snake, I don’t say I forgot any Buzz to discuss, but I have this insane gush Of words of tell you I how much I have loved you through. Precisely none of this should be forgotten, So I decide to write this poem and tell you, I am so much in my moment of truth.”