Written by Apoorva
Maybe our love wasn’t meant to be this way,
happy and forever,
We will go to our favorite cafe
on one Friday evening
where we will meet after ages
and order our special
French croissant and chocolate tart.
You would count the grey hair
on my head and tease me,
but I bet you, you will have more than I.
We will still contemplate,
why tarts come with cutlery.
And I will tell you
how I married a guy who,
listens to the same melodies as you
and sometimes while we
are making love, how I say your name.
And all we will do is laugh,
While you will slide from your wallet
the picture of a baby girl, your daughter
whom you named after me.
Maybe one day you will tell her,
how beautiful we were together
and how you watched me,
panicking while eating golgappas
and you stood there in pyjamas.
Maybe one day you will tell her,
Love isn’t the angel in a white dress,
sometimes love is a goofy girl
spilling ice cream on every date.
Maybe one day you will tell her,
how most of the times I would correct your grammar,
even while we had serious fights.
And how love left bits and pieces,
some tucked under your pillow
some tucked in the corner of your heart.
May be one day you’ll show her,
the stash of poems I wrote for you
which you have hidden in
that wooden box kept in the attic.
Maybe one day you will also tell her,
how first love isn’t easy to forget
and how some rains still
remind you of me.
On those days maybe she’ll ask you
to show a picture of your love,
and you will pretend to look for one
Because you can’t open your heart anymore.
Maybe on some Sunday afternoon,
you’ll bring her to me.
And on that I will hold her face,
in between my palms, kiss her gently
and look into the beautiful eyes,
Because I know this will be the only way
I will be able to feel you close.
