The scrap you name “love”
It was 2 p.m. in my wristwatch and the metro was down.
I walked down the platform, lazy bits of non bothersome pace, news feed scrolled memes, trolls, reaction-flood on whatever’!
I could smell a sweet perfume, was lingering somewhere in this concretes…
A girl in a white T-shirt, wet partially in sweaty desires…
Her nutty brown locks fell on her face, that made it look yet more elegant.
Metro whistled, we got in.
She was standing a bit distantly, yet I could smell her intoxicating sweaty perfume. She got down in the next stoppage.
Heart skipped a bit, breath…outstruct!
Story ended! With the same pace of of whistling metro…as it started!
You call it ‘Love’? What’s the term ‘Lust’ is meant for? Just a cheesy pizza or just a short-dressed chick?
It can be soothing too, just like this that just happened!
Love, you call, what?
Celebrating your one week anniversary?
Instagram stories with hashtag “us”?
Show-off selfies with the price tags named “gifts”?
Or, standing in the sun for hours, just to see that person, once!
No romantic suits, candle light dinners or cozy parks…
Shy glances at the bus stand, isn’t that enough to fall for that person, all over again?
Planned proposals with huge grandeurs, surprise gifts and “these and thats”…
Or just a midnight text, “keep me alive in yourself!”…
Starbucks, CCD’s, or just a roadside tea stall?
Love? you call it…
Rather,
Love, as we call it to be…
