Cyclopsee

Tag: unrequited love

Don’t look at your phone, he said!

What is happening to us, he asked.

What is? She paused.

We don’t get lost any more when we go out.

No, we consult. We save time, she quipped.

Yes, we save time. We shred romance by looking at GPS.

Ah, stop being so old-world.

She was ready for a spoil.

Not old-world. Just naive.

They looked at each other.

It had just turned 8. The lights at the restaurant has dimmed.

Can you keep your phone away for this evening? His tone was almost pleading.

Can you, she countered?

Yes, I can and I have. He put his hands up in the air.

He looked at her entreatingly, his fists clenched, almost.

Do it, please.
Do any thing but look at your phone.
Look at me.
Better still, look at the waiter who looks like Randeep Hooda.
Roll your eyes at the maitre’d.
Play with your curls and your silver pendant.
Go, flirt with the 50-year-old playing the piano.
Crib about the food so much that the rotund Chef himself is forced to appear.
Close your eyes when you eat the dessert – so that sweet dreams are really sweet.
Play footsie with me.

Whatever you do, don’t look at your phone.

Not today.

While you are with me.

Break-up Blah

It’s been only eighteen minutes
I have read your e-mail thrice.

I read it and re-read it in hope
For some feeling of love
and its kind.
You never did say much
Not, with me.

You did not.

I often wondered.

And now your words
They are hurting.
They do.

But you know.

You write poetry
To break my heart

To tell me that you have
Found another man.

In verse you write
How I have choked you

And left you gasping
For breath and space.

Your words are cruel
They hurt me,
They do.

But you know.

And now I tell myself
No more words,
No more
None for you.

Let my love,
Be with me.

For now.

Do the tube-roses remember my love?

There are things that should have happened between us. There are things that shouldn’t have.

There are truths that should have been told. There are lies that should have been upheld.

There are fake smiles that should have stayed put. There are genuine creases that should have become grooves.

There are fears that we should have told each other. There are strengths that we should have drawn resilience from.

There are moments of fortitude that should have made us proud.

Instead. They. Did. Not.

We. Ran. In. Different. Directions.

Glow-worms guided us.

Away from each other.

Where did we go wrong, he asked?

She has no clue, looks on.

In her universe, she is still the flower-girl as a young, strapping lad chases her around with a tube-rose garland at his brother’s wedding.

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