A brief Metro romance

it’s odd how romances are born each day

in unexpected places

in slightly unbelievable people

involuntarily and yet

in all the senses, so when

i look up from the desolate poem i was writing

in the metro that i took,

incidently, my stations turned out be the superset

in which your station and destination falls,

i notice you sitting there,

in front of the person to my right

in the perfect place for side glances to make sense

i notice you with your messy hair, brown shoes and all

immersed in a book that

i am trying too hard to guess. You are

intriguing to me, like a mystery

in a moment that needed my attention, a saga like

Illiad waiting to be summoned by my voice, like an

incantation of my last love, giving me a  second chance, 

i look at you for far too long before

i realise it, so just as

i am lowering my gaze , your

immensely dark eyes meet mine and

i don’t blink for a long while, my eyes almost

immiscible in the liquid gaurding your eyes and

in that moment,

i wished, this train would reduce the norms of time to become an 

invincible journey, where we were just passengers

iterating scenes and acts of this moment that we created.

I snap myself out of the stare and you follow, yet

i am guilty of stealing glances through the journey that followed,

i guess you did too,

if only one had the guts to talk to the other, rather than

imagining scenarios that are

impossible now,

i swear i could have imagined us together too

introducing my favourite beverage to you on coffee dates,

intoxicated beyond repair by a singular touch,

indifferent to two earphones, a double pinner and one

ipod, playing the perfect song.

interesting, isn’t it? How the mind manages to

imagine a person like it wants him to be, 

in black and white, and yet there you were, not a monochromatic

insinuation, not a mirage, but a guy

indistinct from the crowd, found and then

in an action of getting up,

in a short walk,

in a ting of the opening door,

in a very short glance,

in an obsolete moment, lost again.

I know i will forget you too soon, but for now,

i incessantly search for you in unknown faces, and even

if i give up looking for you one of these days, know that

i illustrated you with all my poetic ability here, although

i want you to know that you brought out my

inability too, when all my attempts seemed futile:

I have heard people say that words spoil moments and feelings sometimes,

I want them to know that feelings spoil words too, As,

i couldn’t finish writing this poem while you were sitting

in front of me,

infact i still feel

it’s incomplete, just like our story.

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