a little romance with life

Kya tumhe semi-cooked pyaar hua hai? It all started with Pabs Hum bole – mujhe tumse behad mohabbat hai Kya tumhe bhi kabhi pyaar hua hai? Mujhe doubt hota hai Tumhe sirf mujhse hee pyaar hai Wo bhi semi-cooked Mujhe bhi bohot hua hai Semi-cooked pyaar Woh picturon ki tarah aahein bharna Aur fantasize karna Ki agar tum mujhe date karte toh kaisa hota Tum ye kehte, main uss baat par khoob hasti Hum sex karte, hum cuddle karte Mixed with so many kisses Wo semi-cooked pyaar Jo har call par sochta hai Ki tum meri aawaaz sun-ne ka bahana kar rahe ho Aur wo jo kehta hai Ki tum picture ke wo hero ho Jise abhi tak pata hee nahi hai Ki use heroine se pyaar ho chuka hai Wo semi-cooked pyaar jo gas par chadhaa toh Kuch aag bhi jali thi shayad Dheemi si khushboo mujhe aayi Shayad tumhe bhi aayi thi Warna hum dono hee Naak uthaae kyun hote bhala Logon se bhare iss kamre mein? Semi-cooked pyaar Mehak bhi aati hai Bhoonk bhi lagti hai Par khaali paet Khaali dil Hee sona padta hai

Cat kiss Forever eluding and often angry For leaving him alone Sometimes when I embrace him in a hug He claws to run away And sometimes he stays Looks into my eyes And blinks oh so slowly The book on cat behaviour says He's offering me a kiss. It is easy, so easy To know his kind of love But with humans I want Only one kind of love.

My attire for first dates is a lose shirt and running shoes Which is funny for a person who doesn't run, physically at least A yellow light, I like honest broken conversations And prefer an almost love story to none Or one Where my heart gets broken Fencesitting is fun When you're at Marine drive with the setting sun Yellow lights, some movies say, can lead to great love stories Can someone not meet me there? When we're not on a date And I forget my running shoes at home?

The bags being packed revolted to stop Like the cat that will claw at clothes, skin, human To stay out of the cage For him, this was a home For me, this was a home because of him We wept silently when he was around And loudly when it hurt too much The luggage continued it's strike With jamming zips and spilling clothes Tuck the right end in and the left spills Tuck the left and the right falls Tuck it all, and the heart weeps When will we find a home? they ask Bags not infected with wanderlust Those that like the slumber of empty, light, and free Those that like being open for the cat to sleep But the bags must get full And in the process, I must weep The cat must get into the cage And in the process, I must bleed