I'll Miss You: 23 June, 2014

I am going to miss this. And that.
Passionate, esoteric arguments on Mangoes.
Speaking in Hindi. Bollywood songs. Shah Rukh Khan.
Complaining about the heat, the cold, the rain, the government.
The empowering Delhi Metro. The hateful, hopeless autowallas.
Silly radio shows. Irrational and argumentative family.
Asking Dad for money. Charming Ma into buying me new shoes.
UPSE toppers. The forty minute bus ride to school.
Books that were loved and tended. Pages that call out to be touched.
Dirt-Cheap Manipedi. 100 meter Vault jumps with a safety net.
Knowing the best places to hide.
Knowing that someone will always find you.
Home, sweet home.

She Will Be Loved

I drove for miles and miles and wound up at your door

Something needs to be said about familiarity. The necessary, decadent evil of change.
And longing. For home - the one we leave and the one we seek
For love - fathomless and unpredictable.
And their troubled love child, Doubt.
Persistent, Nagging, Hopeless doubts.

I've had you so many times but somehow I want more

The thing is, you can escape home. Make excuses to distance yourself.
Call them valiant choices, if you will.
Love, too, can be ignored. And if you really put your heart to it,
You can ignore its reverberations.
And you'll be impermeable, indestructible, infallible. Almost.

Tap on my window, Knock on my door

That's the thing about doubts. You can't run from them.
They don't look for your convenience.
They creep in, stealthily breaking your fortress.
Exploiting every vulnerability and poking holes
In places you thought were perfectly safe.

Look for the girl with the broken smile

So you can hide from them. The futility of it will amuse you.
Or you can bring them in for a buffet, let them devour your kingdom.
While you guiltily look at the remnants of yourself in a broken mirror.
Believe me when I say that we all pay our debts. Wouldn't you rather
stab Doubt in the belly? And stop this endless running. This endless trembling.

Do you want to stay a while?