Secluded here in my room I think of you.

Stepping aside my worries a while,

I have come to you.

I won’t bother you much, worry not:

And this cuppa hot tea is just an ally to the drizzle outside.


I must say this in the very beginning: I’ve come to you

Knowing not, where else to go.

I have come to say, that I always felt:

Hidden amid the words you speak,

Faintly laid, are the connecting dots to a hidden puzzle.

Puzzle which I could (may be, ought to) solve;

Puzzle which would lead me back to the treasure trove.

I always regained a missing part of myself:

When you spoke, I listened, and the world would just stop.

Guess the treasure trove, in real, was all about that.


Remember, we spoke and laughed for long hours?

Gossiped, all along, as if we were the only true people:

And all others vanquished in vain.

All hues of joy would then slyly enfold us and,

Conspire with the time passing by, to make it irrelevant.

Roughly, it was a game of hide-and-seek every time,

You would always hide something curious, priceless.

I would always go beyond what I knew.

To get what I never had before.


Things fall apart: not all things are true,                                         

You fade away and my cup of tea goes empty.

Sky clears itself and it no longer rains.


For all I know…

So much to say, so not much to say:

The aura of music like false cynicism,

The realm of sheer care and sanity, and

The blend of hard strife and a gliding soothe.

Guess, even the paradox joins in itself:

As a missing chunk of the whole!

So much to say, so not much to say:

For all I know is, the conviction grows firmer in itself, for

The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of ”.

PS: Sometimes the ‘way you feel for a poem’ precedes ‘the actual meaning of the poem’. To put in other words some verses do not have an implication. Or say, they don’t have a solitary meaning, but you can draw your own versions of the meaning for them.
I believe this is one of those kinds. What say?