Lenin Meitei Thingujam
I may be a Boho,
But I do save for a teary day.
See this piggy bank?
It holds your words-in-eclipse,
The sniffed-up tears,
The silent wails in the key of E minor,
Your cascading laughter in B major,
The rainbow tantrums,
Beads of your cold sweat threaded with pain,
The whine after the wine;
Your moans, your groans, your love-loans,
The lipstick art, the nail carvings,
The SMS sonnets, the ballroom ballads
The pink perfume, the brink-pink blushes.
But forgive me,
Your love is too big to be pickled,
In a small poor man`s safe.
So I am making a kite,
And sending it up among the clouds.
When you remember me,
Just look up and see your love,
Take different shapes everyday.
If those cotton-balls turn wet,
And monsoon on us,
Don`t be sad, bad or mad;
Don`t burn, turn or run.
I`ll just be a whisper away
Just remind me of my old piggy bank.
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