Someone I can talk to
Someone I can trust.
Someone who will be there
When my relationships rust.
Someone who will save me,
When everything goes wrong.
Someone who will comfort me
And help me to be strong.
Someone who listens
At any time of day.
Someone who will brighten
any sky that's gray.
Someone who will always
Want to be my friend.
Someone who will fight for me,
Until the bitter end.
Someone who will always think
Of me before themselves.
Someone who will care for me
And put their own worries onto shelves.
Someone who will always remain
incredibly beautiful and true-
Someone who is my best friend.
Someone just like you.
Somya.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
If I had to Describe you.
You're the extra sugar to my coffee,
And the emptiness in my tiffin.
You're the answer to all my dumb questions
And the "arre" in those mute moments. =]
You're the critics to my award,
And the tornado in my sleep.
You're the shock wave in those rugged rides,
but the comforter of my pillow.
You're the cheer in my laughter, =D
and the wink in those comments !
You're the texts in my In-box,
also the fiery words in the gun.
You're the headlines to my newspaper,
the direction to my sign board.
You're the warmth in those hugs,
the wilderness in the kisses.
You're the sun sign in my Linda good man,
You're the diplomat i love !! ♥
And the emptiness in my tiffin.
You're the answer to all my dumb questions
And the "arre" in those mute moments. =]
You're the critics to my award,
And the tornado in my sleep.
You're the shock wave in those rugged rides,
but the comforter of my pillow.
You're the cheer in my laughter, =D
and the wink in those comments !
You're the texts in my In-box,
also the fiery words in the gun.
You're the headlines to my newspaper,
the direction to my sign board.
You're the warmth in those hugs,
the wilderness in the kisses.
You're the sun sign in my Linda good man,
You're the diplomat i love !! ♥
Class room love.
As winds of turmoil,turbulence and trouble struck us,
to wither apart and shut out possibilities of what is now.
But air gushed through loops and holes,
to prove,happiness is the definite end of life.
With you I have had my real good times,
you laughed along till I went silent.
Tears became futile,and bonds we held became quick fixed.
Fights and frowns were never juvenile.
Foodie is you, waster was me.
Talkative is me, as boredom strikes you.
Hatred is to economics and maths,
as love is to modak and ladoo. ♥
Complaints were me,no appease was you.
Hidden like the diamond is you,deciphering like the miner is me.
Why are we so close,yet distant ?
What complexity is it,so un comprehensible ?
The wind has changed its side now.
My poetry,my painting got back to me.
My freakishness and weirdness once again crept me.
It meant my originality now pillowed with me. =)
From lectures,debates and unwillingness, to cajole,cuddle,and love you I learned.
You don't like it.I know,my apologies for that.
You're not just a phase of my life,deep inside,I believe.
In fact its lightening,current,the switch and its fuse.
Oh yes! It's because of you,
The economics that I miss.
But more than that, its your kiss.
In the scorching sun,In the late winter's moon,and of course the rain,
I want to be with you always.
For my hill topped smile,for my lips,
to feel your flavor,fervor and warmth.
How much would I miss these days, if you're gone?
I wish you made a promise to always stay along.
How did it be that you are with me ?
Crazy,but that's what are we. :)
-Somya
to wither apart and shut out possibilities of what is now.
But air gushed through loops and holes,
to prove,happiness is the definite end of life.
With you I have had my real good times,
you laughed along till I went silent.
Tears became futile,and bonds we held became quick fixed.
Fights and frowns were never juvenile.
Foodie is you, waster was me.
Talkative is me, as boredom strikes you.
Hatred is to economics and maths,
as love is to modak and ladoo. ♥
Complaints were me,no appease was you.
Hidden like the diamond is you,deciphering like the miner is me.
Why are we so close,yet distant ?
What complexity is it,so un comprehensible ?
The wind has changed its side now.
My poetry,my painting got back to me.
My freakishness and weirdness once again crept me.
It meant my originality now pillowed with me. =)
From lectures,debates and unwillingness, to cajole,cuddle,and love you I learned.
You don't like it.I know,my apologies for that.
You're not just a phase of my life,deep inside,I believe.
In fact its lightening,current,the switch and its fuse.
Oh yes! It's because of you,
The economics that I miss.
But more than that, its your kiss.
In the scorching sun,In the late winter's moon,and of course the rain,
I want to be with you always.
For my hill topped smile,for my lips,
to feel your flavor,fervor and warmth.
How much would I miss these days, if you're gone?
I wish you made a promise to always stay along.
How did it be that you are with me ?
Crazy,but that's what are we. :)
-Somya
Friday, August 20, 2010
The Rickshaw Puller
Rising from the dust and debris,
he who labors all day.
Amongst the city dwellers,the rag pickers,
and some factory workers, only he sweats all seasons.
Through hand held bells and powerless brakes,
arises his title- Important yet Inadequate.
Pity and cross swords cut each other,
all over that supposed exorbitant price.
A meager thirty for an eight kilometer ride,
hurts like a three hundred demanded.
While the same spent on a two meter cloth,
is what we never minded.
The magnanimous and the miser.
The overweight and the thin skinned.
All have their share to his earnings.
For some, its a ride of joy,
For me its just a compulsive act.
In the scorching sunlight,
the jute draped bottle gives heed.
In the mid of January,its the coal's heat.
The rain which has no warnings,
layers him with polythene.
With the aim to fill his belly.
In-spite of these troubles,ascents the real hero.
Directions leading to new destinations,
Its he who narrates us,the epic of his misery,
his aching muscles,his bleeding toes after dusk.
He stayed in my servant quarters,
and cried hard,aloud all night.
The wife,the child massaged alternatively,
trying to let go the pain into vain.
He would shout,squirm,fidget and quarrel.
Hoping a better tomorrow,
but as the sun rose,he had to go.
Back into the market of livelihood.
Ready for commercialization,like his circular wheel.
That one manned cycle rickshaw ride.
Yes! It has a story,a very special one.
Every time I hop on, a memory creeps in.
There are more,this was just one. :)
-Somya
he who labors all day.
Amongst the city dwellers,the rag pickers,
and some factory workers, only he sweats all seasons.
Through hand held bells and powerless brakes,
arises his title- Important yet Inadequate.
Pity and cross swords cut each other,
all over that supposed exorbitant price.
A meager thirty for an eight kilometer ride,
hurts like a three hundred demanded.
While the same spent on a two meter cloth,
is what we never minded.
The magnanimous and the miser.
The overweight and the thin skinned.
All have their share to his earnings.
For some, its a ride of joy,
For me its just a compulsive act.
In the scorching sunlight,
the jute draped bottle gives heed.
In the mid of January,its the coal's heat.
The rain which has no warnings,
layers him with polythene.
With the aim to fill his belly.
In-spite of these troubles,ascents the real hero.
Directions leading to new destinations,
Its he who narrates us,the epic of his misery,
his aching muscles,his bleeding toes after dusk.
He stayed in my servant quarters,
and cried hard,aloud all night.
The wife,the child massaged alternatively,
trying to let go the pain into vain.
He would shout,squirm,fidget and quarrel.
Hoping a better tomorrow,
but as the sun rose,he had to go.
Back into the market of livelihood.
Ready for commercialization,like his circular wheel.
That one manned cycle rickshaw ride.
Yes! It has a story,a very special one.
Every time I hop on, a memory creeps in.
There are more,this was just one. :)
-Somya
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