About Me...

The cup of coffee in my hand,
while watching the rain dance on the floor.
The dew drops on the petals
of a pink flower in the garden.

The colour of the walls in my room.
The music of the green wind-chimes hanging by those walls.

The bow of my hat, the purr of the neighbourhood cat.
The watching of sun melting in the western skyline,
from my little window.

The lush green mountains,
And the chattering waterfalls on their laps.
The small black bird watching them all.

The folding of waves in the seas,
Their impulsive kissing the sands and running back coyly.
The lover who sits by the sea side,
With her dearest... or without him.

The love for the guy who taught me what love is all about.
The one who loved me for several years and left a few years back.
The letters that he wrote to me, his cards and gifts
which still nestle in the darkest corner of my room.

The music of a marriage procession on the streets of Delhi,
The distant music of some wedding party in the stillness of a cold December night.

The strumming of my guitar, the peacefulness of the flute.
My fully loaded, but modestly priced lappy.
My CDs, my audio tapes, and the unfailing loyalty of my 10 year old music system.

The fragrance of my make up things, and the beauty that they extend to me...
My flattering and sometimes harsh mirror.
The new wardrobe makeover, the brightness of my brand new stilettos.

The cushions on my bed, the loving affection of my thick pillow.
The pamper of my warm quilt in the cold cold nights.
Along with the bed that I call my Firdaus...

The friend called Ma, the guide called Baba, the philosopher called life.
The house that is much more than shelter or a place to return to.

The hues of mood swings in my best friends,
their lectures and ‘not sugar coating things’
the 'wazzup' of my chat friends,
the kissing of that guy I like so much these days.

I am everything that I like.
I am everything that I love.