The Object

An object of fantasy or utilization???

But just an object, with the perfect edges,

The perfect color and smooth texture.

I twist and twirl it between my fingers-

And I caress the smoothness with utmost care.

But no, it's unimportant at this moment.

I go back to turning the pages of my newspaper-

For as along as 10mins but the "object"

Catches my fantasy yet again.

Maybe my coffee will help me get over it.

But what can be better than examining- 

An object with your eyes and a coffee in one hand.

Sips I am taking, but intellectual ones,

Cause I am conscious enough not to burn my lips,

Without letting a single detail regarding the object-

Missing my vision and touch.

Maybe it's tad bit philosophical that I am obsessed-

With an object that has not much to do with this world.

But through a loophole within time and space,

It has made its appearance before the very uninteresting me,

And on the other hand making the most of my interest.

No. Newspaper and coffee are not helping.

But my watch says that it is quarter to 5,

So that leaves me with 5 more mins-

To ponder on the object and deduce some result

Before my guest arrives to keep me engaged.

So I give it a closer look and my coffee a clearer sip.
Does the object has any story to tell, I keep thinking..
Its usefulness may would have mattered somewhat in the past,
But as things lose value with time, I guess-
Somehow the thingy has lost its value and identity.
The philosophical ranting comes to a jerky halt,
Cause it's the ringing of the doorbell that reminded me,
Of my guest who I had been waiting to meet for tea.
In comes my guest and takes a humble seat,
What's that thing you have on the table Ferb? She asks.
And I said, Oh that is just an object of utter uselessness.
And I can't wait to converse with you and share some delicacies.

Just Another Love Poem

My one and true love you are..

And always will be.

We may be far from each other-

Cause of cruel twist of fate,

But my love for you is true.

Roses will always be red-

Violets the same old blue,

I know the poem is very old,

But I will always madly love you-

 And only you.

The World And Us

They think that you are mad when you were unable to let him go,

They had just seen you fight and shout at each other.

The reason behind all the drama was well hidden from the world,

Maybe that's why instead of coming close, you were going far from each other.

You always fight with the one you love, they say.

But when the lover cannot take love for a reason behind all that,

You feel suffocated and pushed around for apparently no fault of yours.

And then decisions are taken under the influence of jealousy and hatred!

And the world? Do you think that they will ever care?

You may bleed your heart out, but you get only pain in return.

Your lover is being driven crazy by the public and even his close ones-

And when everyone is bored with the show, they all just leave you all alone.

No one knows how it feels to be the one who is suffering a lot-

And getting to see the person you love suffer with you.

Time can heal all wounds, they will preach and feed into your brain,

But the scars on raw flesh proves that only your pain and not love, is true.