The Cardboard Box

There’s an old cardboard box in my room somewhere,
Probably a remnant of something I got delivered from one of these online stores.

Some days it is plain brown, with a fading blue logo I can’t read anymore,
On other days it has pink wrapping paper on it, and little grey smiling elephants.

Every night I put away my stories in that box... the good, the bad, and the boring,
And I’m careful to shut the flaps tight, so that they don’t spill out and fade away.

You see, this is the longest that we haven’t spoken to each other,
And I’m worried that when we do meet, we won’t have anything to talk about.

Because we will meet someday, maybe years from now,
Talk about our respective lives, a normal conversation without any awkward pauses.

I’ll ask you about your new friends, your music sessions, your dance classes,
Tell you about my job, my football practice, everything...

Just enough chit chat, to make you smile,
And keep me from saying out loud... I never stopped loving you!

Possessive Much?

Okay, so here's a thought.

Let's say you love someone. To me, that means you think that the person is a wonderful human being.. that she is capable of spreading positive vibes, such as happiness and joy and love. Ergo, there will be others who will think so too.. there will be others who will love her too. Right? So, what's this thing called jealousy that couples talk about?

A certain someone once had told me, "You're the world's least possessive boyfriend". And I think I had replied, "That's coz possession implies ownership. I never owned you. I'm just happy to know you."

Or something like that. I dunno. It was a long time ago.

Early Morning Flights

"Why do you always book early morning flights?", she asked in exasperation, her nose all scrunched up.

"Because then I get the entire day at my destination", I replied.

"No, you don't. You can't sleep all night because you're scared you'll miss the flight. You can't sleep in the plane because your legs don't fit in those tiny seats. Basically you fuck up your entire day. You're an idiot."

"I love you too. Now go back to sleep. I'll call you when I reach."

I Scream

My little nephew was coming home for lunch, so maa asked me to go get some ice cream. On the way back, maybe because I was dangling the flimsy plastic bag a bit too much, it ripped right through the middle. Eight cups of butterscotch ice cream went tumbling across the asphalt. As I bent down to pick them up, I see from the corner of my eye, an elderly gentleman walking up to the crime scene. Let's call him bhadralok number one. He stops right in front of me, and exclaims to an unseen audience "the plastic has ripped". Enter bhadralok number two. He says "eeesh, yes indeed, the plastic has ripped, and the ice cream has fallen out". While I try my best to gulp down a sarcastic retort, bhadralok number three announces "polythene bags should be banned, they are harmful to our environment". There's a collective groan of approval from the crowd. Oh yes, a crowd has formed by then. And all this in the span of less than a minute, mind you. Then comes fat sweaty kakimaa, wiping away the extra talcum powder on her neck with the edge of her saree. She looks into her big shopper, pulls out a bunch of plastic bags, throws one at me, and walks off. Before I can mumble a thank you, she's gone. And so has the crowd. Dispersed into the city called Kolkata.