AR speaketh...

The questions, the answers, the thoughts, the ideas and the other crap that make me, well, me.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Thieves

Foreword: You keep hearing about these poets who get "inspired" by some event that happens in their lives and then go on to pen a couple of thousand lines in verse about it. Only they don't realize the nobody wants to know, in the first place. It has been my desire to inflict similar torture on unsuspecting souls (heck I don't care even if they are suspecting souls) and recently when I had an experience that seemed to lend itself to verse, I thought this is it! India have won the Twenty-Twenty World Cup! Ok, maybe not quite that, but this was similar, I swear...

He smiled and saw right through me,
And I, I did the same.
I thought no one was watching me,
And he, he did the same.

There she stood, clad in white
Handbag on the shoulder and a faraway look in her eyes.
Long, blonde windswept hair
Cellphone clapped to the ear and luggage between her knees.

He stared and I stared
And the noisy traffic hurtled by.
Unaware I continued staring
And he, he did the same.

Such moments of bliss do not last
And alas neither did this.
Snap! And we were back to the earth
Sheepish, him and me.

And then he saw me and I saw him,
He all of eight years and I almost a score older,
Yet we united in that infinite instant, thieves each,
Stealing glances at her till each caught the other,
And walked guiltily into the moonlight.

(based on a true incident that happened sometime in September 2007.)

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