miles away, from the dear ones
pressure-cooked, on the job-front
i reach for her, amidst the Chaturti dins
‘when are you coming’, she asks upfront….
tomorrow night, I say in wanton gay
‘what use for me’, then, she did say
crestfallen & speechless, i sit in dismay
is relation a prescription like 1-1-1
morning-noon-night, well defined one?
so what is this love, what you talk about, boundless
just measured by convenience, it’s meaningless….
A misfit, all through my life
struggle I, to get out of this worthless strife
wondering when i do come rife, in life…..