s t a r s

s t a r s

Light nuances of orange,

Bright I condemned.

Blue all over the palace with

hues of lucidity caressing its messiah;

Strokes. softly

She plays the harmony,

“May I sit down to your beauty?”

the bloodless veins through the sky

drools along the whites; 

whites.

Gray sinks down to the ashes,

And they say it's because of her,

the air is lurking around in its blasé;

stars;

in its own hiraeth.

The Pain Itself.

                   The Pain Itself.


The leaves fall around me. It's spring. And the pink is seen everywhere. I'm a Writer. Or I call myself that. So, everybody always sees me with a pen tucked up into my back pocket and my Bell Bottom drags around on the floor because I'm barely reaching up to the hanger, in my room; where I hide the deep ones of mine, in the form of a paper, so that the deeply lit people think about the words as a paper and a paper itself. By the corner is "The Brewsters." 
I walk there, with a book in my hand, Jane Eyre.
"Where you heading?" Ms. Keely asks me with her stripped pants and her plain white shirt panting out of breath. Beneath her lies the trademarks of Spring. Anybody who wore any other shade but for Pink and Yellow seemed to be the Sun now. And Sun was no more Bright. It was just about Perfect; like the little girls who walked past their homes with small baskets carrying around little flowers that caught their attention. 
"Brewsters', Ms. Keely." I replied back, amazed by her choice of fashion. The Light gleamed through shades of Perfection and hit her right on her cheeks, the young woman with so much of passion. 
She bids bye and I just walk past her, hoping for the people to go on with their own stories. Often, they tell me that people with Intense Emotions don't really enjoy crowd. I never felt that way. Crowd was where I learned to be me.
I felt like a bird, with huge wings that was too scared to fly into the darkened clouds or the lit up sky. I was too numbled to break anything that would in turn, hurt my feelings. I put my pen down, occasionally and the man right up the right to Jade's house sneaks into my head to check if I was mentally stable. Jade is my friend, I say that because she says that to her dad. But I'm not sure about the friendship thing, I don't think she is either. It would sound bad if we go about telling everybody that we don't like each other.
Ha, Words. Words are the answer. Every time, I drop my pen, the boy up the street keeps hustling through like nothing happened and every time the man up Jade's loosens his hose, people sniff around. 
Irony, is it?
The path to where I longed was no long. It was just about the corner but onto the way, I see many people curiously looking at Each Others' eyes. Some in pain. Some in love. Some in Happiness. Some in guilt. Anger, persuasion. 
But Oh, those are the Idiots that believe that the loved ones are the happy ones. The Happy are different from the Loved; Happy and Love are two strong words that have a force to be reckoned with. 
The Happy look at the Clouds and smile to its beauty. He looks into her eyes to realize how blessed he is. She loves the Roof Top and spends her dreamless nights there, beckoning herself with her own fiasco. He pats her on the back, eveytime he looks at her being stunning. But, the Happy ones, eventually become the Lovable; the shoulder, the pen, the might, Him, Her. 
Around the end, there's the Pain. Ah, Pain, Nobody knows how it feels. Poor Ms. Kelly thinks it is Pain that Jade is going through because her Mom embarassed her infront of the Dreamy Girls. 
Pain. The Happy and the Loved are dusted when it comes to the Pain, man. They don't see their lives falling apart because when they see rain pouring, as the loved do. 
Pain is an emotion that feels like it has no colors but has painted every hue with it's own shade of Black.
Jade's dad looks me in the eye every time he sees me, so that I could stop being myself and lose myself in the scents of flavors of spices and leaves.
But, I don't, My friend, dare to tell him that his wife is gadding around with other men in here. Words.
Paradox.
And, I drop my pen again when I realize that not a second has gone by. And, so, they tell me that my feelings are Intense, because I gab my time thinking.
This is why so.
And there goes my Pen again, between the fine line of Love and Happy; 
The Pain Itself.

Have you heard of Toys?

                                           Have you heard of Toys?

And, he looked at me once, with his hand rested on her legs.

I wonder if he was the guy who kissed me once.

And you left me,

When I was alone, whimpering with the wound that you thought would never heal.

It never did heal, it’s started bleeding again now.

Its bleeding all over.

The lights are changing from purple to brown and I was looking at you turning yourself into new ones in different shades.

I was there, looking at you like you were going to come back to me today.

And you proved it to me, on my face that I was wrong, and I just sat there.

I sat there, with my hands knotted against the chair, strands of my hair forging me to gape at you looking at the people you love.

I was begging my mind to let my heart ask you if I was even there inside the circle too.

It looks like I’m not now, so, I’ll bid goodbye now.

Baby.

And that’ll be the last time I call you that.

My battery’s gone down and my hopes have hit the ground and I’m going to run far far away from you .

The weather’s cold, the roads are freezing and I’m barefoot.

The trees allay themselves and I see you past all this.

I run to you and I see me in your eye’s mirror.

And I was no more there.

…

I stop my hallucination and I look at you,

Seems like you just turned away.

I mean, turned me away.

I ask my brain,

Wasn’t he the one to promise me forever?

My heart replied,

He taught you infinity and showed you that forever doesn’t exist.

Infinity.

                                                               Infinity. 
                                             

Right before 5 days, you pulled me into the most troubling waters and you asked me if I’d gotten over you.

I’d pulled you into it too, and I said that I had.

Now, can I tell you what I actually wanted to tell you?

I wanted to tell you that those days without you had been the dullest of black. And I never got to know you loved Grey.

I never was aware that you liked it without me.

But, without me, it was paradox for you.

Without you, they were fonts and sizes for me.

I wanted to tell you that,

I’d seen you hurt.

I’d seen you getting into the misting to not tell me that you’re dying.

Baby, I know you. When we were together, I used to tell this, but now I mean this.

I know you well. Very well.

And I know that you are hurt.

And I know that you don’t want to blame our problems on other people.

.

But, instead,

Love, would you wait for me?

Now, let’s wait.

Let’s look at each other through the nooks and let’s tell ourselves that we are no more.

And after everything’s done, let’s tell them that the roads to the highest of mountain are being built.

And I wanted to tell you that,

Your lips are inviting as ever. How’d you stayed so close to me, with just the staring at each other?

How did you not want to kiss me, like the old times?

Yes. The old times.

And, I lied.

When I told that I’d gotten over you,

You didn’t notice me looking at your fingers pretending to have not heard you.

I hear you. I hear everything you say. I hear even the whispers of yours and I hear your beats and I know that you’d wanted to hold me taut and tell me once again, that we’re going to withstand the storms.

I’d be your princess, and I’d tell you that you are my infinity.

I’d tell you everything you have missed.

You’re my man, fighting loneliness with all the people who don’t get to make you be you.

I’m your girl and I have nobody else.

So, here I am. Waiting.

Hold your hands and wait for the ending of this new beginning.

Until then, I love you.

An open letter..

Dear Idiot,

They tell me,

“Don’t act like only girls feel heartbroken after someone leaves them.”

I asked myself then,

Must you not have felt broken after you realized that we weren’t together?

That’s why, I’m here, not able to tell you that I still call you mine,

Not able to tell you that

I miss you.

I miss you, so much, so much, so much.

I’m here, not able to text you,

writing an open letter.

And I’m going to tell everything about you and myself to them, and they are going to look at me as I paint my words, beautifully about  you, and your love.

Let me pick the shattered pieces and put it up together, and they are never going to be able to see through it,

‘cause it’s my blood that will stick us together, taut and colorful.

Black you were,

I was white.

Slowly you added grey to me, and I ponderously turned black too.

Now, we’re black and let’s go together until everyone believes that darkness is bliss.

And let’s not tell anyone that we’re different of the same soul, the same heart, and the same love.

That is what love did to me.

That is how love made me forget the contrast of anger and love itself.

I hate you now; I don’t want to talk to you,

But I just want to hold you; I want you kissing me.

I’m starving.

And I’m bleeding love, I’m crying thirst.

I want that love back, and I badly want you back.

‘cause now my mask’s coming off, and everyone’s gonna see who I am,

Insecure and tough to handle.

And I still remember the times, when you said,

“Forever…”

The forever that I’m living now.

Let me think,

I see myself, I see those hands you held tight once, and the lips that you used to cajole.

And I see those times, when you wanted another kiss, and I turned my back onto you.

Now, I’m on my knees, pleading for your presence and you’re nowhere to be seen.

Please open up again,

Please become the old you and take me back again to the times, when you told me that you would cry if I killed myself,

The old you to whom I looked ‘lovely’

And the old you, the same old you who couldn’t let go of me after a month of separation,

A month that haunted me till the darkest of my secrets.

When I wanted to do things with you, you were hopes.

When I did things with you, you were dreams.

And, now when I can’t do anything with you, you’re the rain that is drizzling on the strongest of my windows,

I ain’t able to touch you, I ain’t able to feel you, I ain’t able to cry too,

And,

Idiot,

I ain’t even able to see you,

As you stand right beside me.

Yours,

The one that you’re missing too.

The Dove that died.

                                      The Dove that died.                                             

When heaps of dust,

Led me through in lust,

There were the words I wrote,

The words I could never emote.

The arm that held me tight,

That once showed me some light.

You don’t love me now,

Wasn’t it then all about love?

Me you were into,

Fear I’d undo.

For that the curtains covered,

The beating fist into pieces hovered.

                                                   

* * *

Let me just die instead.

                                      Let me just die instead.

You know that kind of pain where you don’t name it.

You know that, don’t you?

That pain which doesn’t let you let go,

That pain which doesn’t let you bid bye.

And, that pain, which hurts you.

I don’t know, he just kept running somewhere,

As he called it,

He said it was for me that he was panting and running,

And in the end,

I just never got to know if he was running towards me or away from me.

Ever.

But weren’t you running away from me?

Weren’t you running away from that “forever”?

Maybe, just maybe,

You never loved me.

They say, true love’s never second guessed.

But, wasn’t I your choice?

Your priorities were all high, and are still high.

I still miss you,

.

.

Idiot.

He comes to me with this smile to handle me carefully,

But why do you want to break me now?

Isn’t how you broke me already enough?

Maybe you aren’t shedding tears right now, like I am.

Maybe you aren’t holding yourself tight and pretending calm, like I am.

Maybe I’m not on your mind anymore, when you read all of this.

He came to me and he asked me to stay strong once.

He came to me and he asked me to kiss him so that I would feel better.

He came to me once, years ago, and he cupped my cheeks slowly,

Looking anxiously for my permission,

And I swear, I haven’t slept properly since that day.

And he came to me once just to stand beside me and love me.

He came to me and he asked me to,

Just try loving him once.

He used to look at my lips every time before we kissed and he used to just take care of me.

You hugged me tight that day after those days of separation and you just looked at me,

You just looked at me like I was everything.

And,

The same lips I’m craving now once called me,

“Something.”

I doubted him and he came to me again.

Over and over again.

And again.

But, baby weren’t you the one to put your man power down and start pondering towards my strength slowly?

And weren’t you the one to show me that forehead kisses are everything?

You are.

And, you were the one to show me that even a cubical elevator could contain emotions.

You were the one to show me that even tears were a way to capture you.

You were the first one to tell me that I was in love,

With another crazy idiot.

And you were the one who taught me

Infinity.

I’m dying. Now. I want you.

I want you to sing to me once again like how everything was so perfect before.

Don’t you ever think I’ll leave you,

You’re already in the trap.

For me, the beautiful castle

And for you,

The prison along with me.

Do you not get it?

I fucking love you, idiot.

I love you.

And I have always,

And I’ll forever.

I love you.

Narrative - lost. (Into an idiot.)

                               Narrative - lost. (Into an idiot.)

Was it just you who fell in love when you weren’t supposed to?

It was the staircase this time. They held each other happily when all he wanted was to get those lips of hers into his already. She wanted to hold him, and stand there near the stars forever, as they walked back into reality.

She has mood swings. She talks, leaps and the next moment, wants you running behind her like nothing shan’t happen anymore.

She rose from that spot in the staircase with no ventilation except for his whistling breath surrounding her.

She looked out of the small arena of hers into the world outside, eager to find answers. She never told him what her problems were. He wanted to know them, as he wanted to know her.

There was always something about his smile that got her forgetting what her problem was.

He was agitated, he wanted to know her. Know her problems. Know what those ‘lovely’ lips were worrying and bothering about. She kissed him, made him get over her silly bothering.

He wouldn’t let it go.

They bid bye when he knew she wouldn’t tell him her things anymore.

For, baby, I looked at you as I watched you go back. After that painful bye. You turned. You looked into my eyes. You came back to me and you knew I wanted you. I wanted you despite all those baffling.

Darling, I love you. I love you and that was why I let you hold me strong and hard under your arms when I shed tears on your chest. There was not a weaker wall I have seen than my heart. But, you loved me. You loved me back to the staircases where we kissed and the movie halls we held hands in. And back to love itself where we began.

There were always things about him.

There was something about him when he asked her if she was scared of something.

There was something about him when he told her that he shall love her even if she’s fat and out of features.

There was something about him when he discovered that she was feared of being judged. She was afraid that he’d leave her with all odds that she could never be with.

Idiot, there was something about you which made you realize that

I was different.

But, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, you are my problem. You are my glass that’d be shattered soon.

Those fingers and lips that’d vanish.

Those eyes that can never be mine.

Those arms that wouldn’t wrap around me like it always did.

Those words, that you stress upon that you’d leave me soon, was a joke for you and a narrative for me.

For, wasn’t it all a story that wasn’t supposed to happen?

Fake.

                                                   Fake. 

Did you ever know that we were going to get like this? Guilt takes me all over when I think about every single time you came to me.

Neither did you, nor did I never came to know about our relationship.

No one was aware what it meant when you asked me if I loved you.

It was just fear. For how do you throw fear into your pockets, by fear itself?

Your elision on me never stressed you it punched me all over like I was being stumped.

You didn’t know what fear was. You blended me with love, and you took yourself out from the blend. I’ve forgotten now, to see if you are original or

‘fake’

For, no one was supposed to know anything about us. No one was to talk about us. No one. And,

You ripped the blood out of my heart and meshed it with your liquid, leaving me probing for mine alone, which I would never find again.

Can’t you just look at me and to the least pretend  like you love me?

Maybe then,  I wouldn’t forget what it is like to not smile.

For, love. You overtook it with hate. I couponed it better with my love for you. But, you saw only your hate getting through me like a honey bee striving for its hive.

And the hive to have fallen down, like a corpse inside a coffin.

You never fell down. You stung me. Stung me until I couldn’t find anything anymore.

For, just tell me if you are fake. I would walk down the aisle like nothing ever happened.

And, don’t tell me if you are ‘my’  original. If you ever do, I would bid bye to you like everything happened, and let the memories in front of me tell you that I’m no more yours.

What was I even to you? Glue that stuck pieces of your ego together?

Or ego that stuck the pieces of your hate together?

For, what would you do the next moment I tell you that we’re no more,

Would you go back to the time when you pleaded me for another kiss?

Or,

Would you fleet back to the time when you secretly promised me that you would never leave me,

Or,

Would you just stab me again?

Like you always did.

Seconds ago, I gave up on you.

'cause love, you are fictionally living.

I welcome you to emptiness.

Fear.

                                                     Fear.

Do you get those times when you have extreme nightmares, that you kick the bed, trip around an’ fall?

Why’d you do that?

Fear?

What’s fear?

For some hollerin’ and kickin’ doesn’t make up fear. The lump that forms in your throat and the slime that echoes through your body, is that what the feared word is?

Sometimes, questions are the answers to their own selves.

You don’t answer questions.

You just repeat them.

Fear.

The one word which puts us all into a witful trauma.

The one word that no one else has ever gotten an answer to.

The one word for no one has bothered to think upon.

Why’d you shout? Why’d you holler?

That isn’t fear. That’s decision.

Beautifully knitted one-sided decision.

Some goodbyes are the hardest. Some, they don’t hurt you.

Then? Left outs, you don’t name them. You just shriek for a while with the difficult swallowing and tears welling but what’s after? You start movin’ over.

Lump? They’re attributes. They’re your decisions.
For you don't even know if fear is supposed to be feared. 

‘That’s what humans are famous for, fabricating peculiarity.’

But no one’s ever naming fear. They’re attributes annexed to

‘Why do you fear?’

When a flock of birds is up into the mountain free air, what do they fight and fear tooth and nail?

Downfall? Or their Wings?

The answers to these questions cannot contradict the question itself,

But, it can support it.

Only when the bird fumbles with its wings, it falls.

But, what is your fear?

Love? The fear of losing them.

Hate? The fear of creating opposition.

Success? The fear of doing less.

Failure? The fear of growing up in life.

For, fear is not supposed to be tormented upon.

‘cause fear’s always there.

You aren’t.

Are you?

Syzygy

                                                      Syzygy.

With fatigue closing over me, I dropped. My eyelashes lost all its glam and fell down for a while with weariness. With tears drizzling from my closed eyelashes, I knotted my hands over to my waist and wondered in my bed. I was tired. I was supposed to sleep. But, things I wasn’t supposed to think were haunting me.

We were contrasting. Like the dark clouds and the moon, we went with each other. When we smiled, it wasn’t I who collapsed.

We were like black and white, going on with each other. All I forgot to know was that I was low visibility in there. You like colors. Maybe that’s why you put me into a pulling up aloha color.

You turned black. Turning me into the color that no one would bawl upon. You were the same black which would go well with every other tinge. 

Fine.

We were complementary, weren’t we?

No. Don’t answer. Maybe I would have to start it all over again if you answer.

My bed squeaked as I cuddled. I sweated in patches. My hair was thrown into a perfect bun as I crept silently onto the next part.

I wondered my destination. It was all black. I didn’t know where the beginning and the ending were. I put my hands up in the air and searched for the walls. I could not feel a sense of hope. I turned around. As time passed by, my vision could catch the walls.

I could see a thin line of sunlight raying inside the room. The room of despair. Suddenly, a light up inside the endless castle started flickering. I was not inside a black room. I was inside a white room with the light put off.

The light kept flickering. When it was on for a second, I wanted to know the next time it would go. When it was off, I couldn’t find my pipe dream.

Through the gutter, I was in despair to make my way out. From glimmering, the luminescence stayed on for the rest of the while.

It was all white, then. White had no bounds. 

As I turned a 360 degree pointing at the whites, there was a black door. The ray of sunlight plopped in from there. A narrow thin ray flowed in. I tripped down to the black door, amused. My index painted the door and pulled down the knob. It became harder as I pushed the door, the next option. I turned right and let my arm twitch the door. I pushed it with all of the force I had. My arms started cringing. 

The door creaked. I shouted and acted wild. But, not a tear escaped. I banged on the door for a lifetime.

Finally, the black glossy door totally shattered.

I stepped out. Into the reality. Maybe reality is just real. That is why they call that, that.

“The reality never bothered me anyway.”

Heaven? No. Hell? Yes.

                                    Heaven? No. Hell? Yes.

Have you ever felt a huge lump in your throat?

No one around you even knows that you are dying out of suffocation?

Wait, actually, no one cares.

You know that you have to enjoy your own self, you don’t seem to care about anyone, no one. Because there are people for you.

But, basically, the truth is,

Tears unwelcomed but they unlock their floodgates, leisure of tear escapes, and you lay supine, looking at the roof, your sheets strangle through your thoughts, but here, think it’s the stars you are admiring.

You are lying with the divine smell of rain hitting your nostrils, you could call that, “Petrichor”, but immediately you would become some sane human.

 “Be Aware!” You are living with dangerous species, and we call them,

“Humans!”

Apparently, there’s no rain hitting your windows here, So, you imagine.

Imagination is the only thing people aren’t going to judge you for.

So, go back to living fantasy.

You don’t have a wand, but you have another magical weapon, and let me introduce to you, this, anonymously people ruling weapon,

“Words.”

With words, you turn the cheapest thing that would strike their minds into the most beautiful thing that they would ever think of.

So, continue imagining,

Your words are soothing. They can cure even the hard wounded hearts.

Now, add on to that happy life of yours on the roof, staring at the stars, friends of yours. There’s nothing you worry about. And even if there is, you turn those into numbers.

You are rehearsed. You know the next moment of your life, you waive your own life. Your science textbooks are all covered. You don’t have to stand up on the bench,

Here,

There is going to be a change. We call that reality.

*Actually, you can take running notes, it might help you survive this game, I mean, *stammers* Life.*

You don’t get to live your life. Life lives you. There are no feathers thrown on you, there are no red carpets for you.

But,

There’s this dry sandwich, the only thing waiting for you.

You are on a stage with people full of,

What do you call that?

Words.

 Unimaginably alluring words.

You get to have your earphones, call that your prized possession.

Tears are no longer flowing! They are all dried up. There’s nothing you would feel. Stringent.

Now, can I knock your door of reality?

Let’s go to daydreaming, reverie.

You don’t erase your own writings. You get to talk to him.

Together, you create love.

He looks into your eyes, it’s in the elevator, but, here, you gotta imagine,

Your hands are done, intimately intervened.

The salty water from the romantic sunrise on the beach leaves you both whirling in the pool of,

Love!

You know,

There’s love everywhere. Everywhere.

But you aren’t sure if it’s there in that small cubical elevator.

I now, make sure,

That,

Yes, there’s love everywhere. It doesn’t matter if you are miles away from him.

Yes, there’s no way you are allowed to stay in the roofs with your friends in the mid of a pitch black night.

Yes, tears do fall from your eyes, Oh no! You can never stop them.

Yes, there is no way people are going to throw red carpets for you.

But, you know what?

There’s this fine line between your imaginary skills and your brooding brain. 

                                   
                                  “Welcome To Living Originality.”

                                                      

                     

Okay? Okay.

                                         Okay? Okay.

Pani-puris spilled across the terrace as they gulped them in, with their mouths watering. A chair for one held them two. Punjabis danced around like people had already touched their rainbows. Her half sari was glowing past all of the contemporary paintings. The sweet sauce fell on her beautiful gown and spoilt it all along.

Their chair’s leg was already trembling, he got up, leaving her to occupy it for the whole. Different sides of the same terrace had different stories blooming. One among them is this. The story of the…

*You’ll read.*

“Can I leave now?” He asked her  

He knew he had to. Hindi songs had totally taken everything in. Her friends sat by the end of the terrace, these hearts fighting for contradictive reasons.

Her girl talk overtook him.

“This is the only time you get to spend time with me. You want to go, ‘cause things have changed. Everything’s up to you. Don’t ever talk to me.” Her known response hit him.

Crackers were heard with the beautifully spoilt faint yelp of their wishes.

She lay supine on him, leaving the streets telling him to choose it himself.

He stepped out of the place, into the peaceful corridors.

She saw him leave. She felt like swallowing her own tongue. Her night already perished. Playlists containing depressing songs had started playing on her mind. She missed his, actually, she missed him.

She realized,

“No.” She said to herself.

She finished one of those left out Pani-Puris, she felt a hand touching her back. She prayed as she turned that it should be him.

The kindest they could be was to leave her all alone.

She got up and merged inside the crowds, her bangles shining brightly through the dark people. Dark hearts.

She danced to the beats, and, finally realized that he wasn’t watching her.

She jumped amongst the crowds and fell onto the music. Minutes passed by, and she got happy. Happier. Happiest.

She still dreamt that he would be standing behind her when she was dancing. And that he would see her, and come back.

Dreams apart, comedy was all that her life had for her now. She got high, and put her hands up in the air, through the crowds.

Her eyes closed, she enjoyed.

And tried everything her brain wanted her to.

She opened her eyes, people were watching her, clapping for her, shouting her name,

Encouraging her.

She got out, with an appealing smile. Ineffable, it was.

She sat with her friends. Now, she could not imagine him coming and things.

She opened the fizzy Coke bottle as a fountain went up in the air. She shook the bottle and gulped it in turns.

Everything she did was, ethereal.

She saw him, standing by the entrance.

A smile was put up on his face. It explained, he was watching her all along.

She went near him, through the high crowds.

He came near, and without a word, their shoulders nudged,

And, smiles exchanged.

Settled everything was.

Years later,

She told him how much she loved the way he was standing at the entrance, waiting for her.

He told her, how much he loved the way, she tried to forget him.

And, that was how they still loved each other.

                                                    ***

“Actually, why did you want to leave that day?” I asked.

“'Cause I knew you wouldn’t leave me.” He replied.

“Okay?"
          -“Okay.”

A stolen Paradise.

                                A stolen paradise.

Either of them knew how it had started. The room was filled with people and noise everywhere. The windows were tightly shut. And the room was suffocating with a bunch of crazy people in it.

The pulled out couch could handle them in the back. The friends of them sat down on the floor when there were these two, glinting through the dark like two stars in a galaxy full of darkness.

His hands slid into hers as no one ever noticed. But, I noticed. I never told them but I saw him looking into her eyes with their hands intervened. She looked everywhere, to check if people were looking at them.

They did nothing, but yet, it was something.

From being on to those strangers, they went on being friends.

And after a lifetime, he could catch her hand without letting her stare at him awkwardly.

I was obviously looking at them, but they never knew.

He wanted to get the remote which was near me but all he could search for in that darkness was her hand instead of the remote. He caught her hand and asked whether she had it. 

He wrote the words of love in the stone of Zion.

She smilingly replied with a nod. I was apparently, searching for the remote which was next to me, and then, he asked her.

They never placed their hands on the remote.

I still continued gaping at them. He placed his wrist on her groin.

Oh! I wish she hadn’t worn Denim.

After a minute, I just wanted them to bloom.

I got out of the couch when he never was bothered about anyone near him.

I smiled as I got out realizing how love could make them forget the Human Kind around them. 

All he had was her now. Not his friends. Not his Family. Not himself.

I walked out of the small room and settled with the people outside. I twiddled my thumbs as I waited for them. And, after an existence, she came out first. And, following her, he came out.

There were exactly five people beside me, but none of them saw the seed being germinated as they cut a long stare with his cheeks widening and as he gave a silly smirk on her.

She smiled, as she could never.

He raised his brows asking her what it was, with no words coming out of his mouth. 

All they did was a glance. A glance which could never lose its battery.

They still don’t know that I knew what they were.

She probably would text me now.

And, he. He would come and ask me, who this is all about,

‘Cause, he ne'er was aware that everything I wrote was about them.

And, that was how another High-School Love started.