On his Birthday....
We were three months past our date,
The first green Saturday night lounge,
Where we met...and here was his birthday.
The red roses, the candles, the wine;
The sunshine, the moonlight, the chocolates;
-Were not there, i wasn’t enough rich
To get 'em for him-my obsessed lover.
My life was dark then as night,
And night was what I had to offer.
One year hence.
I had the idea of how the pay slip looks,
I knew now to protect him
From the seductive crooks.
Though champagne was still
A far-fetched gift-sneak-peeking into my purse,
I could say,
Yet I could give him my hand,
If he wanted it anyway.
Another year still.
His birthday again,
I had the bucks, the profound maturity
And as for my life I had many other men.
He had been possessive enough to say
'You’ll live to be only mine'
(a joke/a threat/a prophecy/a wish..god knows!)
But I could part my way and survive.
Yes I hadn’t seen him since we broke up
Four months back from then.
Where he was I didn’t know,
I was in other hands with roses,
The wine and champagne...
The next year had come,
That day shouldn’t have
Been all that important
Except for a call that came,
'Honey! Cant ex-lovers meet?'
Apprehensive, yet, they could I saw as-
I waited for him to arrive,
Somewhere where we had met
Several times but ages before.
Not on time as usual, still
He arrived in that lane.
The next thing I knew was-
Tulips had replaced roses-
And that cold truth,
We were in heaven!
