Sunday, February 19, 2017

Misadventure of A Hopeless Romantic

He would look at her face every day,
Dumb-founded and in awe,
And each single day,


Every day,

He would find something new,
Something new to admire on,
How can something this breath-taking,
Be the cause of his calm,
He sat still,
Trying his best to fathom,
Whatever it is he is feeling,
Hoping she would be his heart’s final stop.


He would always remember her voice,
How she sounded a little boyish,
But, like magic, in a second,
Would sound like the heavens opened up its gates,
Once she started singing,
And each single day,
Every day,
He'd long for another second,
When her voice would grace his ears,

He would go back to how he felt,
When he first realized,
She's what he wanted,
She's who he was waiting for,
She's her own woman,
And he wants her to realize it,
And each single day,
Everyday,
He discovers it is still there,
That plethora of ineffable emotions,

And he asks,
With an almost bewildered wonder,

He realizes he’s already hoping,

Saturday, February 11, 2017

Equivalence Point

I met you at a time,
When I was almost self-destructive,
Almost as reactive as sodium metal,
To even water's tiny hint,
And to any girl I meet,
I was Hydrogen ion in strong acid,
I'd take what I want in a minute,
And then dissociate completely in a blink,

Then everything unfolded slowly,
But at the same time in an instant, ironically,
As if the universe was a lab rat,
Working on titrations and equivalence points,
Every careful twist on the burette,
Were the long conversations we shared,
Every vigorous shakes to the flask,
Were the disagreements we fought through,
And the lookout for the right hint of phenolphthalein,
Was my heart arrested in your yearning,
And I was sure right then,
This color change was permanent,

But no, it was no typical love story,
Where I'd go talk on and on of chemistry,
No, it was no typical love story,
Of sparks, Of hits and misses and feet sweeping,
No it was no typical love story,
Of 'then it hit me's and slow motions and OSTs,
No, it was no typical love story,
Of planned proposals and scenic kneeling,
That's all reserved for cinemas and screens,
I guess I lucked out because ours is real,

You always have felt like a dream,
Comforting yet distant and indistinct,
But now you are real, we are real,
And it is comforting to see,
That the world is a world of chances,
A web of uncalculated events,
And maybe one day,
I get to exhaust the constellations,
And the caged up infinity in your eyes,
Or catch a glimpse of new-born nebulas,
Every time you waver a smile,

And I know I will always be looking on,
In absolute awe and admiration,
No matter how great the distance,
For your very existence,
Is on itself a miracle,
For I know we can buffer anything,
Because you are the perfect conjugate base to my weak acid

Tuesday, February 7, 2017

SLR (Sorry, Late Reply)

She reminds me of mornings,
Of sunrise and new beginnings,
Of the first sip of coffee,
The warmth that creeps inch by inch,
That momentary heart burn,
Pulling you in for another sip,


She reminds me of sunsets,
Of long walks and sands and beaches,
The sun's graceful goodbye,
As its rays carefully thumbs through the sky,
That melancholic murmur of ocean waves,
Caressing your feet and gripping your chest,
That momentary jolt of shiver to the spine,
Pulling you in, as if whispering; "stay"


She reminds me of novels and books,
Of time travels and misadventures,
Of  metaphor, oxymoron, and simile,
Of saddest lines, of two cities, of two families and odyssey, 
Of words, like skyscrapers, masterfully built,
Taking you places while holding you still,
That momentary arrythmia, holding you prisoner,
Pulling you in convincing you to another page,

She reminds me of hallways,
Of empty eerily quiet hallways,
Where all you can hear is your own heartbeat,
Or your own breathing,
Or your own footsteps,
And maybe hers,
But faintly, at a distance,
Pulling you in for a glance,

She reminds me of the universe,
And all its beauty,
She reminds me of the world,
And all its lunacy,
She reminds me,
And maybe that's all she is, a reminder,
That sometimes beauty can be in all places,

In all places but here.

Sunday, January 29, 2017

Of Patronus and Time-turners

I wish I knew how to stop the turning,
Of this time-turner in perpetual spinning,
I wish I had the strength to unhinge myself,
Of its chains and of the hypnotic time travel,
But like those in the time room of time-turners,
I'm trapped in an endless loop of falling over, 
Un-falling, re-falling,
Un-falling, re-falling,

You were Lupin at a time I was in a state of terror,
At a time I didn't know how to fend off dementors,
But with fate's playful twist,
You were also that thought of bliss,
And then luck left, because worse,
You were also my patronus,
Except that I cannot summon you to my heart's desire,
Or even at will when dementors strike,
So I hold on to the time-turner,
And faintly to myself, i whisper,
Expecto patronum,
Expecto patronum,

And no matter how much magic creeps into me,
When we share moments and memories,
After all these spells and potions I memorized,
It hurts to see that I'm still a muggle in your eyes,
Maybe someday I'd gather the strength,
Like a member of the Order, hellbent,
I'll send your way a patronus message,
To maybe, just maybe, make you realize,
The reason I held on and stood with my wand,
Fending of dementors with all my might,
I was always hoping to see you across the river,
And maybe stay with me forever,
Because you have always been my patronus,
In this world full of dementors,
Always,
Always.

And then finally I can let go of this time-turner.