The Bombay Review

I am a glass of milk mixed with mishri that started melting in the heat of summer and you, you want to drink me every morning. I am one-part routine and you are 12 hours work. I am taste you miss or calcium that sticks to your bones.

I am 6 hours sleep you desperately need after a long day at work. I am dreams, you are real, and for reasons strange you want it otherwise. I am one-part energy and you are 8 am in the morning, ready for another fight.

I am temptation, you are stress that will fall in the trap. I am the justification of sin and you are the sinner, but then I am ugly and you have a reputation. I am one-part confidence, you are patriarchy.

I am a handhold, you are a broken heart locked in a room, where light hasn’t reached and it’s 6 am. I am friendzone, you are lost love, and so might I be. I am one capsule care you need tonight.

I am a much-needed conversation. You are a prisoner of your feelings. I am need and you fear being weak, but then I will burst out and you will smile. I am one-part vulnerability, you are caged voice.

I am moon, you are lonely and it’s 3am. Sleep hasn’t arrived. I am lost pain, you are a wreck tonight. I am a six page long letter that was never posted, you are eyes. I am one-part memory, you are running from your regret, the meeting will continue till sleep arrives.

I am a two-minute read and you are anger. You don’t have milk or water and you can’t go for a walk either. I am rhyme, and you are frustration developed at the wrong time. I am one-part poetry, you are an unsettled mind.

 

Ajay Jhawar, 21, studying to be an engineer, which means trying out everything except engineering, hence writing. A resident of Kolkata, India.