Hardik Vaidya

(26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)

Can You Not Be Like The Dove On My Bedroom Ledge?


Why do we play hide and seek?
Or rather you hide and I always seek?
Is it not about time you too seek?
My bad, you have sought, I know,
Your soul whispered me so.
But men don't understand whispers,
We are not born to translate ciphers.
What holds your tongue?
From a one to one admission?
A confession that is so common,
Made since the day man was born to be common?
I know its not your pride,
You never let anything come between me and your strife.
You always kept me away, from your wounds, your festering sores,
Your oozing pus, your excruciating pain,
Even when I wanted to hold your slender hand,
When the moon shone Un ashamed,
On the alleys of Parel,
When we walked down to your home,
Your waist was then as slim,
Your bosom as warm and calming,
Your lips craving for mine,
But your brilliant brain, always faster than mine.
Is it because I have a slower chip?
Because I care fore you more than you care for me?
Fcuk it, who deserves you more?
Your tears, who wants to drink them and lick them more?
Have you found a better soul mate?
Is there a alternative soul?
I thought there was only one pair,
Like the doves who make nest,
Behind by bedrooms air conditioners space,
To mate and to rest,
To coo and to crest,
To live and to jest,
To lay eggs for the best,
So that Indian pigeons are born safe
From ravens of Indian origin
Behind the safety of Korean nest.

Submitted: Friday, February 22, 2013
Edited: Saturday, February 23, 2013
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