Do you remember the night
we spent in the old hill side,
the night when the brooke smiled knowingly,
and passed by our side.
It was a rainy night,
your wet hair,
my trembling fingers,
and the moon.
Somewhere the oceans must have sent the waves,
I heard everything your eyes said.
Whenever I ate peanuts by our lane,
no matter how careful I was,
I always dropped a part,
like that night, when we tried to be too careful about our emotions,
yet a part of it flowed,
and the stars went off to sleep.
My ear rings that I wore that night lied like two drops of unfallen tears,
beside your watch,
that held the moments forever.
I remember the shawl and your cap, that lied on the wooden chair,
like two strangers in a waiting room.
Even now after so many winters,
that night comes and flutters the serenity of my heart.
My dear poet,
sometimes do that night stares at you which we spent on the old hill side,
when you wrote the most beautiful poem of my life without words.
P.S. : Now you say that its all past, even I agreed hard,
until our eyes met, we realized we both are bad liars