​”Hand in hand 
– those evening walks.
Those silly stories you mumbled
late night
gazing at the stars for long.
All were lies.
For love does forgive a sin.
and not make excuses to stay away.”

…. the storyteller gazes at the night sky.
Same stars.
Not memories but True Lies.



School, memories and smile
It follows as such.
What adds up better is his face!
“Friends!” “Yes!”
And the scenes changed.
….. memories found space,
she kept running besides the waves.
Her Sailor was home.


One night it was love
narrating her woes with friendship.
Love didnot know that friendship
would come up this bad a person.
On hearing love
Misunderstanding stood up.
Topics changed. 
Misunderstanding fought with love.
A long fight though
ended with love in tears.
Love was true yet couldnot convince.
Misunderstanding chose to deny.
Fight got intense and ended love broken
having lost all respect.
So it was time to leave.
Love was hurt,…..crying
a lot.
Finally misunderstanding calmed
and could understand
that love was true.
Words saved the scene.
Though love was hurt
yet stayed.

A sound broke in and he woke up.
I guess the storyteller had a nightmare.


​I know not if I love these bars.
Maybe because they seem more familiar
sharing the scenes of my growing ages.

“I wonder if someday I’m set free,
who will I find outside this known?
These prison walls have kept the difference.
Me on one side,
the rest mankind on the other.
Is it that I feel safe in here 
Or I’m afraid of changes?
Maybe these bars have 
imprisoned my thoughts for life too.”


​Fifty years back, I shot a man. 
Crime prisoned me to the bars.
Standing behind them
all I gather
is a child 
who then was brought in here.
– No idea of the laws of the world
   Neither about people making them.

“Filled in with guilt?”
“No. Else to be true…no idea!”

This child in here fears,
if the world outside
will be the same to him.
A small kid
had left then;
returning as an old man…

“Life Imprisonment
– This is a truth.
As all it imprisons is your life
Not you.”


” Things appear magical
People seem more beautiful..”

He felt a different happiness
when her thoughts hugged him.
“I love your smile…it’s unique
but it’s rare on your face..”

Even today he looks at the mirror
yet unable to get her words.
Today is her birthday.

“I fear to text you now
Maybe my text won’t end.
Someone find me words.

You have been special for me
It has been a journey
a beautiful story
It has been you..
Happy birthday puffy.”

The stories kept framing…
Sweet dreams for the storyteller.


“Will you help me out tomorrow?
Just some stuff of few hours..”
The next day was her birthday.
He was happy-
few hours out and
just two of them.
“Which one- green or peach?”
He chose her earrings.
She bought them.
It was her day the next ;
he was happy.
Eyes winked- some pause.
Lunch talks had no end.
“I had a nice time,”
“Me too..”
– the story didn’t pause
nor did the storyteller.
“I miss your smile..”