The Talk

I never believed in being subtle neither am I wild and as there is always a line separating the two, I prefer to place myself on it. It’s safe to be a diplomat and worth too. To publish a book on my name is a dream I have been seeing for a while now and being the laziest of the genre I doubt whether my dream ever comes true. Before talking about publishing a book I should definitely think about writing one and here at this particular part I am in a serious mess. Please… pleading with a cherry on top, don’t let your eyes roll out of incredulity when I confess that I hardly have anything to write about. And my quest or thirst to write is not going to wither with my lack of experience or knowledge to write real stuffs.

The Poet in my Life:

Verse after verse, he recites…

As if an angel’s chants…

Or a priest’s psalms…

Verse of joy and verse of sorrow,

And at times, verse of love…

The love I awaited all my life.

The love I envied all the time.

He is teasing me, indeed I knew,

Branding the love which I craved…

Which I hungered for long,

Which I was denied mercilessly

For God-Knew-What-Reasons.

I am not angry on him, poor soul,

Knows only his poesy world,

Knows nothing of this cruel world.

Awakened by random thoughts,

He peeps out of me. And-

I write poems.. Giving the world

Glimpses of my inner poet.

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