Why must…? – A poem

rose in a diary

Why must, every time, when I look at you, I stare?

Why must, every time, I find you beside me, yet not quite there?

Why must, every time, when I speak to you, I fumble?

For words, as if you were a master, I — a servant most humble?

Why must, every time, when  I look into your eyes, I catch

A glimpse of some faraway world, an alien snatch?

Why must, every time, when I think of you, I smile?

As if you’ll be forever around, not just for a while.

Why must, every time, when I see you go, I dread?

Will I be alive when you come back or will I be dead?

Sex lessons Bollywood taught us


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