Waiting Poem by Dupur Mitra

I wait for many things. My lover, dream or revolution. I wait for that boy who once called me dad subconsciously, i wait for that river, where learned how to swim. I wait for that stolen friend, who once said i should be with you all ever.



Sometimes i wait by siting at the bench of a park, sometimes at the rail station or sometimes at the main road where peoples wait for their relatives or others. I wait, because i think, may be, i shall get of those.



I feel good when i wait. May be, i shall never get of those, therefore i wait. Waiting which is like a poison for someone, becoming honey in my life day by day as dream.