For the confessions you made.
About the times we were strangers.
Of the moments you walked past me,
Fast and swift without caring a look.
The more you had wished you could stop.
For the way you shoo that doggy on the street.
Pretending to be brave, yet drowned in fear.
The times you try best to talk mature
And end up exposing the heart of a kid.
For the way you celebrate victories over me,
With those joyous eyes of an infant.
Be it for the number of paani-puris.
Or kicking the stones to farther distance.
For the way they run moist.
The eyes , at times , they never should.
The gentle touch of comfort,
When all I long for is a smile.
For the way you crinkle your nose in despair.
In the small troubles and the sight of a cockroach.
The way you close your eyes and pray
When a book falls off by mistake.
The reasons are small,
They are foolish too.
Even when I know I may not...
I’d still close my eyes tight
And say…’anything for you’.