It’s hard.
Especially when he’s asleep,
And you’re awake.
You try to let time pass by you
You watch as time slows down,
On purpose
And snickers at your torment.
It’s hard when
The street corner phoolwala
Has a fresh bunch of red roses
Dressed up in sparkling dust.
The smell reminding you of the first time
He nervously gave you one
And ran away
Before you could smile.
It’s hard when
You pass his favourite chaat stall
Where he had once beaten you
In the pani puri challenge
And you couldn’t stop giggling
Through all the puris in your mouth.
You crave for one now,
But you just turn your back
And walk away.
It’s hard when
Your song is on the radio
And you can’t decide what you want more -
To sing along till the end,
Remembering the time you danced to it
Laughing, in his arms,
Or to just make it stop
And go hide the radio in the basement
Like everything else.
It’s hard when
Every knock on the door
Makes you jump up
And you rush to open it
Thinking he’s home again
Only to realise it’s just the mail
And he had left
Years ago.
It’s hard when
Every time you wish to see him
You have to travel
Back in time
To when he was awake,
When he hadn’t left you
For the dark,
When you were the reason
For his beautiful smile,
When he loved you
More than anything in this world,
Those moments
Are worth the distance
When you finally meet him
In your dreams..