I ask him to take a picture

of the ocean for me

knowing full this wanderlust

would not retreat

to the long-forgotten alleys.

I ask him to bring back

a handful of stories

sprinkled with mirth and laughter

knowing well that a twist of fate

would take him

to a new land, yet farther.

He asks me to meet him

in the dead of night

and live with him, someday.

The ticking clock of the hopeless

pulls us away with each glance.

There is a road beckoning him

and laughing at my clumsiness.

I would go with him if I could

asked me once, if he would.

He takes my left hand

and squeezes it with his

just when we stand by the

busy marketplace, the two of us

he smiles, says

it’s part of being ourselves.

I like the sound of his voice,

he doesn’t require

the sound of mine.

I could lose a day

gazing at his fixed smile,

while he narrates a tale.

I think I know the fear

dwelling in this heart of mine;

I don’t want to be

just another of his stories, with time.

Image: Tumblr

Abhyuday Gupta

Dreamer. Achiever.

Leave a Reply