I met her when I wasn’t alive,
She kissed me,
My thoughts, whatsoever, left me,
There was just some bright light,
Some light too bright,
Few noises, but too much to hear.
She kissed me when I wasn’t alive.
A plate having some pickle and no roti,
I cried when I wasn’t alive,
So hard, so tight, and so much light.
Where was she, when I ate culinary delights?
Was she there in those dark nights?
When I waited, waited patiently,
She never arrived.
She did played her games,
Sometimes she touched me,
And said, ‘Hey good man’.
I hated, she came with every sunrise,
And left before, I could become wise.
With every tick, I waited all day long,
For another sunrise to become more wise.
Never in pain, never in disdain,
I used to look up at her and smile,
Would never be able to do it again.
She touched me,
Moved her fingers in hairs of mine,
She waited for so long, over there,
All the time when I was alive.