The first things’…

The first time I rode a bicycle I accidentally hit a child and he got injured;

and since karma exists so the next day I fell off the bicycle and the veins of my knees got ruptured,

The first time my father raised a hand on me I became sad;

but then it was for the first and last time I guess, so it’s glad,

The first breakup surely leaves you with deep loneliness and depression;

you feel out of the air when you’re at rest, or even lying down without any congestion,

The first poetry I had written was the result of a lot of thoughts in my mind which got tangled;

hadn’t I expressed them in any way my brain could have got dismantled,

The first salary when I got, that was the moment of pride;

although maximum was utilized in buying gifts for my parents and siblings rest I  kept aside,

The first time I have actually consumed alcohol I felt so much relieved and relaxed;

neither it resulted in an outbreak of emotions nor I got harassed,

The first time I have faced a failure I got into depression;

but it also made me ready for several challenges and competition,

So all I can say is cherish all your first-time things in succession;

be’cz either it had become a good memory or had taught you a lesson.

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Blood Bloody Pain…

The first love brings so much blush and happiness on our face;
But not all the couples get success in catching up with one another’s pace,

Few of them face ego issues, few face priority issues, mine was also somewhat the same;
But since I believe in destiny, so I don’t have anyone to blame,

People learn a lot from their first relationship especially girls;
Be’cz I guess girls are dumber, but it’s necessary to outshone like pearls,

Sometimes I feel that maybe it wasn’t love be’cz when I craved;
He took me for granted and treated me as if I was slaved,

Then the day came when I finally decided to break up and walk off as I had enough;
And I don’t regret my decision be’cz I thought him to be the peak but he was a trough.

Break the silence…

Sometimes we face strange mischieves;
still, we keep quiet as if we ourselves are thieves,

We often get molested on street and in public transport;
but we keep mum be’cz we think our image will get distort,

I completely understand why this happens even in the presence of sentinel;
that’s be’cz in India instead of the rapist, the rape victim is seen as a criminal,

Now its time to stand for ourselves to remove those monsters from our way;
so break the silence to make them realize that women are not weak even after dismay,

And even if the rapist is your boyfriend or husband don’t hesitate;
be’cz consent is necessary every time two individuals mate,

Always remember it’s your life, your business so no one is gonna speak on your behalf;
so common be bold, speak up and don’t just keep sitting hiding your face with a scarf.

Part of Me…

Part of me says go with him;
Part of me says no, the light is very dim,

Part of me says he cares for me;
Part of me says no, he does so for his own glee,

Part of me says go on, don’t stop;
Part of me says no, sometimes you have to drop,

Part of me says don’t risk your future;
Part of me says no, I know he can never be an abuser,

Part of me says that it was a mistake;
Part of me says no, it was just an emotional outbreak,

Part of me says listen to everything he says be’cz he is your life;
Part of Me says no, you are just his girlfriend and not the wife,

People often mention these parts as heart and brain;
And then they say listen to your heart as brain gives you strain,

But dude heart doesn’t have thinking power but brain does,
So stop spoiling your life be’cz God has given only one to all of us.

I wish I could tell you…

I wish I could tell you that I have dated men;

I wish I could tell you I used to cry because of that men often,

I wish I could tell you whom I want to get married;

I wish I could tell you about the chit for copying in the exam that I have carried,

I wish I could  tell you when I went into depression because of a friend;

I wish I could tell you when I wanted to wear capris when they started to trend,

I wish I could tell you that I drink occasionally;

I wish I could tell you that even at home sometimes I feel lonely,

I wish I could tell you when I craved for freedom;

I wish I could tell you that I want your support when I needed some,

Dear papa, this gap existed because you never understood;

And the result of this gap can never fall out good.

 

To be a man…

Every men’s upbringing teach them that men don’t cry;

May be because people will assume them to be weak, girly, gay and not guy,

Sometimes it’s very necessary to release your stress which could be done by sharing feelings with someone or shedding a tear:

But they can’t because of being ridiculed, which most of them fear,

As a result, men typically respond to stress by taking alcohol, pills or drugs;

And further, they tend to use more violence to ‘regain control’ which make them crucks,

People often mistake men’s first night as pleasure instead of pressure;

Yes, pressure which is high, because their suitability is evaluated by their performance as if it is a measure,

That’s the reason why they dominate when something doesn’t go according to their plan;

But everyone doesn’t understand that it takes a lot to be a man.

Poverty…

Barefooted children playing with tyres wearing clothes with holes;

is the most common picture everyone would have seen in India on the roadside across the poles,

 

People sleeping on footpath, kids and women selling balloons on red light;

cause me goosebumps and makes me to thank God for not being on the side of my sight,

 

Pot holes, illiteracy, molestation, population, poverty issues are many;

but the high authorities are least bothered which is the irony,

 

There are billionaires who can do millions of charity;

still their number is comparatively less so poverty still exists and that’s the technicality,

 

Nowadays people click selfies when they visit NGOs or orphanages to upload on social media sites;

but they should realize that it’s the time to take some steps to remove poverty causing termites.

Don’t know why…???

Girls when take birth in India;

People get distressed with a kinky eye;

Neither  they celebrate nor they feel joy;

They just blame their destiny, don’t know why,

Right from when she started growing;

She was being taught how to make dough and deep fry;

How to avoid arguments and become shy;

As all these are mandatory, don’t know why,

Doing flirt and watching porn are not the things for her;

Because men have its copyright till they die;

May be just be’cz they have a penis and thus claimed to be guy;

But women don’t have this privilege don’t know why,

From teenage till getting married;

She is used to face torture without spilling a single drop from eye;

Neither she says, nor she cry;

Keeps this with her only don’t know why,

Not only this, when it comes to their purity;

They are pushed for examinations which makes their mental state destroy;

Men can explore as many women as they wanna try;

But a women is questioned if she did the same, don’t know why.

Broken Souls

She met him in the college during the last semester;
And was instantly attracted to him as that time she was a teenager,

Then the time came when their love was getting pitch;
But separation was their destiny although they didn’t ditch,

After all whatever makes you feel free;
Is as dangerous as termites for a tree,

Despite the reality that the decision to end the relationship had been mutual,
Cycling through such feelings and emotions was usual,

Loving and caring for someone isn’t enough to make them stay;
You have to travel an extra mile to make your relationship go long way,

One can die of a broken heart- it’s a scientific fact;
But it’s been a long time their heart have been broken, yet they are still intact,

I understand why things had to happen this way;
But then you have to let the dust that hurt your eyes wash away,

We all are recovering from someone so we are not alone;
Still there are some who are unable to cope up, and called as broken souls.

Overthinker…!

What they will say when they’ll see;

Or, what they will think about me,

Will they accept my love or not;

Will they be happy or forcefully tie a knot,

Will they be able to understand my shy attitude;

Or else will they consider me to be rude,

Oh God, I am such an over thinker;

I think a lot, does it helps!-no never,

Is this a standard quality or a reason of distress;

Don’t know but this is what I happen to possess,

I try to find meaning in everything;

I don’t like getting one word answers be’cz from them I have to dig the meaning,

Sometimes I struggle to have a sleep;

Sometimes the fear of worse gets so deep,

I weigh pros and cons in all situations that can be;

I keep analyzing people around me,

I tend to very easily assume things;

Making choices becomes tough for me be’cz decisions don’t come easily from within,

Yes I am an over thinker but it doesn’t have any harm;

Be’cz I know every individual has its own charm.

An Indian Bride…

Today an Indian bride is not just a decent girl with good values and looking like a fairy;
it’s more of how much she is carrying with her in the form of dowry,

Society- the so called driving force for an Indian’s every activity;
neither it’s something to praise nor is a matter of dignity,

“Log kya kahenge”- struggling always with this in mind;
people often forget their own interest and continue to grind,

Being 36-24-36 is expected out of every bride;
but they forget that beauty comes in all shapes and size,

People have made even bridal makeup a mockery;
be’cz to me it appears like layers of a multi colored kulfi,

Even the bride doesn’t care now much about the happiness and blessings;
be’cz the thing which bothers her is whether to wear lehnga or kurti with leggings,

May be this happens because it’s her day so she wants to enjoy with her besties;
hanging around, making poses and clicking selfies,

I know enjoying high and a little show off is not a crime;
as things, culture and the way of celebration changes with the time.

Besties are always before testes…!

People often say that two men can surely be best friends;
But two women! No, not at all and being a women I know it offends,

They say a boy can compliment his male friends in his own way;
But women! they can’t even imagine doing this with their female friends even a single day,

This relationship is same with two brothers and two sisters as well;
I remember when me and my sister used to fight my father used to tell,

That two brothers can manage to live together;
But whether for a week or a day even, two sisters can’t even gather,

But this is only what people say or claim;
As I grew up I realized that things are not the same,

I have seen many girls who are long time best friends even I have one or two;
But totally agree that may be it’s true for a few,

People say there’s mostly a boy behind a quarrel among two besties;
But this can only be true in case you are in twenties,

Be’cz that’s when the immaturity is at its peak;
As many of the girls become boyfriends freak,

Even I am only twenty four now but by now I have realized;
That only besties are there when your love relationships make you traumatized,

So from now on wards if I hear this people’s bullshit I will be like oh please;
No matter what you are facing or have faced, for me besties are always before testes.

Happy Engineers’ Day

Juniors waiting downstairs to give us farewell in the Audi;

is the last memory I have of my engineering journey,

Live project, assignment, presentation, exam and backlog;

are the stuff we dealt with in our engineering life for quite long,

Ragging, watching couples in the cafeteria, and gossips that we did;

I remember all those and miss them when I see that candid,

College crimes like mass bunk is a myth as unity is impossible in such a populated class in colleges;

but we “the engineers” do all this without considering our grudges,

Not even the Trending trolls on social media regarding engineers;

can bring down our zeal or make us feel low before our peers,

Engineers day is not just to wish or greet the engineers at the place where you live in;

it’s more about realizing and appreciating their efforts from deep within,

Although passing those 4 years with distinction was agony;

but that’s the reason why they are called the backbone of our economy.

71st Independence Day

As the subcontinent recovered from a bloody war with  British residents;

it is very important to recognize how we got here from the dark slavery dens,

India’s Independence has gone a long way from “The Battle of Plassey” to “The Sepoy Mutiny”;

However, a unified and national uprising of India as a nation against British authority might somewhat be the destiny,

A day when people in India pay homage to their leaders and those who fought for India’s freedom in the past;

A time when the area with major government buildings illuminated with strings of lights is vast,

Its a day to feel the pride of “Vande Mataram” and “Jana Gana Mana”;

A day to recall how the movements for Independence  had begun,

There are a million things about our freedom movement that the textbooks have told us;

and a billion other things which may have been overlooked, omitted or simply haven’t given focus,

Those who have dedicated their lives for the cause of Indian Independence;

The Indian freedom fighters need to be remembered at least once,

The blood they shed in any freedom fight or “Jallianwala Bagh” hadn’t gone in vain;

As finally India got Independence somewhere down the lane,

And now its time  to feel the pride of being a part of such a glorious nation that has led its path of freedom its own way;

and celebrate with prestige and dignity India’s 71st Independence  Day.

Just a T-shirt away…!!!

Love is wondrous I know, but missing someone is like hell;
so I always hope of him every time I hear the bell,

Situations often make me feel long distance relationships are the worst;
“Is he worth waiting for? Is he feeling the same way I do?”  I know its all about the trust,

But after so much of wait when he came to celebrate my birthday which was due;
tears rolled down my eyes just by seeing him in a second or few,

Love that moment, that feeling of anxiety and excitement;
yeah once again he managed to crown his commitment,

Tactile sensitivity, of course, is associated with sexual arousal,
and that happened with me too when I hugged him being sentimental,

It’s something we all know of, something we’ve all talked about;
it’s something we, as a culture, obsess over and out,

But who the hell even care;
although I know its awful when people stare,

He kissed me, and grabbed  me in his arm;
but I kept looking into his eyes, I guess it was his charm,

I got goosebumps which was obvious anyway;
yet I stopped, although  I was just a T-shirt away.

A senior…I met !!

He said, “huge congratulations on making it here”;

I said I am nervous, so he added, “I felt exactly the same last year”,

He said, “You guys are now a part of this vibrant community;

and I’m sure you’ll find it just as interesting as I do definitely”, 

He said, “Today, quite a few people on campus see me as an inspiration;

I do not consider myself exceptional at least compared to the kind of stories I’ve heard, it’s may be their imagination”,

“The fit factor, is the most important hiring factor these days”;

Telling this he also continued with how all this, one should embrace,

He said, “don’t waste your time in impressing every other;

Be’cz at the end of the day it doesn’t matter”,

He said, “I’ve realized that to thrive here or anywhere, you should embrace the inclusive, impress the indifferent and just ignore the ignorant;

that is, if circumstances even bring you in contact with them just become a prudent”,

He said, “it was and will continue to be the community as a session commences;

a community made up of people with diverse backgrounds, cultures and experiences”,

He concluded, “The bottom-line is that this campus provides an incredible environment to meet amazing peer;

pursue almost any interest, and make your voice heard loud and clear”.

Virginity….matters???

There are various issues we feel shy to talk about;

and committing it is like a crime in our society no doubt,

a 26-year-old girl on the verge of matrimony;

is facing a commotion of mixed thoughts resulting in agony,

her excitement is climaxing at two levels, on one hand, she’s awaiting stepping into a realm of new relation;

on the other, her ‘virginity-status‘ is adding to her pre-wedding agitation,

she is getting sleepless nights wondering what if her better half comes to know that she’s not a virgin;

will he accept her if she dares to bare the truth that she has kept within,

however, she’s not alone as there are many women;

on the verge of tying the knot who face the same dilemmas be’cz of some orthodox men,

not everybody understands the temptation to take the plunge becomes tough to resist;

in a day and age when sex comes naturally in relationships,

some broad minded couples have no qualms in accepting that their partners;

may have gone the whole way in their past affairs,

but there are still those who relate virginity to morality and for them the bond of the unbroken hymen;

still scores over the bond of love and commitment,

it is our body our rule , everybody is free to love and choose a partner;

its a personal choice or decision and it is not for others to judge in any matter,

virginity and chastity are not the only measures to base a happy marriage on;

honesty and trust are far more important traits that both partners should possess life long.

Talent!!!…finally founded

                          I don’t know a lot about poetry but sometimes I tend to write. I write when something stuck my mind or something is boggling or troubling my mind and I am not able to say, share or convey it to anybody. That is the reason why I have the subtitle on my blog as “sometimes poetry gives you the voice”. Yes, it has given me the voice, the voice to say from anything to everything that I feel or believe or want to share with others.

                          I don’t remember when I started liking poetry. From the childhood only I used to see and observe my classmates that everyone was good at something or the other but I always wondered what I am good at. And the answer which I always got from myself was probably “nothing”. I remember I have heard many times that “everybody has a talent you just need to find it” by my teachers, neighbors even on television programs and I was always like “all this is bullshit” but then, when I grew I found that I too can do something which everyone can not. Yes, I founded that talent in me of writing English rhymes. Probably I was born with it or was fascinated by some poets I don’t know really but I was happy that I have finally founded the talent which somebody has said once consoling me, “don’t worry what if you are not good at running or painting or dancing, you must be having some other talent which you need to just find out”. I wrote my first poetry in eleventh grade, and began publishing my poems online in my blog few months ago.

                          When I walk down my memory lane, an image stands out large and that is how much effort one of our English professors used to put into explaining the poetry of renowned poets which were complex and obviously we didn’t like the one which was more challenging. But mine are not such, anyone can easily understand what I am trying to convey in my poems may be because I am just at the beginner’s level.

                          Whenever I post a poem, I get a lukewarm response and I often wonder – is it because of poetry? Till now I haven’t reached 1000 views may be because of two reasons. One, that I haven’t promoted it enough. Two, prose can be an effortless reading unless it is stream of consciousness writing, poetry can become quite boring if we are not familiar with its techniques and tones. So there is a decrease in numbers who read poems. Sometimes even I have to read twice or thrice the poems of great poets to understand the undertones that appear enigmatic initially. Who has the time and the inclination to read and re-read a poem in this fast-paced world? Probably very few, only poetry lovers do! so I understand.

                            Despite getting critics and less traffic on my blog, I continued to like poetry and slowly discovered that it doesn’t matter to me how many people have visited my blog. This is my passion and I will continue doing this. Many people have even asked, “why you haven’t pursued your career in this if you are so good at this” and my answer to them was, “I don’t believe in making my passion as career because the minute you invested your passion in your career you will start loosing interest in your passion and gradually you will loose your passion as well as your career”.

                             Some of my poems are ambiguous. Probably they relate to my past or buried memory, which I wouldn’t like to reveal like “An introvert” yet they are just to give a vent to my emotions through writing. Some poems carry a profound message, which remains eternally relevant like “Delhi’s nightmare“. Some poems are meant to inspire others to rise against injustice like “Let us be” while some just sooth our disillusioned minds like “Bro! its my choice“. Some highlight the arrogance of those who have always tried to oppress others like “Most legal rape!!!“. They leave an everlasting impact on sensitive souls. Poetry needs a bit of tenderness while reading.

                              I am not a renowned poet, so what is poetry I might not know. I merely try, I try when a bunch of words on my mind, provokes me, to come drape them, with my randomness. Alan Rickman has said, “talent is an accident of genes-and a responsibility”. So find it early, brush it up early or else it will be getting wasted.

Father’s day secial

From infancy, girls draw conclusions about what men are like;

and that too from the first men in their life,

as I traveled through my elementary school years;

you made efforts to spend time with me and taught me how to live in this world without fear,

most children develop a sense of in-dependency as teenagers;

and the title of “Daddy’s Little Girl” often loses appeal at this stage, but mine was catching gears,

you were always available to listen;

and always been there though I needed you often,

I remember you were standing alone outside the operation theater;

when doctors were operating my eyes to make them better,

when I was in pain be’cz of that cut on my thighs;

not less were the tears that rolled down your eyes,

it is just as important for men to hear and be shown;

affection from their children as it is for women, it’s known,

although I try to do this whenever possible;

yet I am writing this for you to make it memorable.

Delhi’s nightmare

Delhi is unsafe for women no doubt;

and its unsafe level is increasing day by day as a sprout,

having lived in Delhi for almost two year;

I came to the conclusion that I am as much to blame for the lack of safety and ridiculous fear,

fear that our gender experiences as the next ruffian eying me at every corner;

why? Be’cz the minute someone pounces, pinches or comments on me I, like every other woman, have two choices, but I choose one that is easier,

one, to retaliate and make it clear that it is unacceptable;

two, cower down, look for the shortest route home and make a mental note to avoid that particular corner whenever possible,

by deserting the city in ‘unsafe’ hours and passing judgements on those who become victims we make it a cakewalk for a criminal;

to try whatever they feel like and that too with the least sense of fear of law and society being anti-social,

the issue of rape being tied to a country or a city is something to be ashamed of;

and to be an upcoming global superpower with the 2nd highest number of rape cases pisses me off,

the thought of stepping out late at nights fill fear in the minds of young women;

no longer can they trust that an evening out with friends who are men,

the capital may have the reputation of being India’s most unsafe city for women;

but the protests against sexual assault that have rocked the country and forced the government to enact new legislation were also led by Delhi’s women,

the establishment often forgets to ask what gives any man the license of raping;

no matter what a women may or may not be wearing.

Child abuse

Child abuse is the result;

of mistreatment by an adult,

culprit can be a family member, uncle or well being;

and at least here the girl child is not blamed for inadequate clothing,

in fact over half of the children;

are abused in their own den,

it can be physical or sexual;

simply a neglect or emotional,

it is not how bad the mark or injury is;

but its traumatic penetrating the child’s vagina or anus by penis,

it can be oral sex or child prostitution;

rape, yelling, teasing or rejection,

even after ‘child protection act’;

issue of child abuse is still intact,

those who force a child for sexual activities;

should be ready to deal with penalties,

if the child doesn’t tells you and you are unsure;

please try to ask and make efforts once more.

Let us be

In a country where the definition of modesty changes every few kilometre;

there’s still a thread that binds us all together,

we have to counter the stripping vulnerability always,

which we feel with that piercing male gaze,

our natural body and its curves are made to feel;

like an embarrassing outgrowth that puts down our zeal,

our bra strap is made to feel like our dirty secret;

we instantly tucks it in and pretends it never existed,

the one layer of opaque clothing provided by the ‘churidaar’ isn’t enough;

God forbid, someone sees the natural form of the human being, it sucks,

never truly running that race on the sports day with all our heart;

Be’cz our breast can’t look like the forces of nature they are,

slapping scarves onto short-sleeved tops for trains, or worse yet;

spending fifty times the amount of money and time on a cab if we wanna met,

but the men have never once had;

to plan their travel based on their clothes, its glad,

instantly tugging at the neckline of our ‘kurti’ while walking through a dark round;

as men in shirts with the first five buttons popped open asses our moral ground,

we can’t seem to wear or do anything that quite fits the idea of ‘modesty’;

may be the definition is the problem not us, so ‘let us be‘.

Periods!

The word everyone runs away from;

isn’t something to behave like a storm,

it isn’t meant to hold us back;

or to restrict us in a sack,

it gives us power, the strength of being a women;

the strength to produce a life in our abdomen,

this life giving process is as natural as breathing;

but still period shaming everywhere in the world is streaming,

in India, the subject is such a taboo;

as if it’s a crime in having periods too,

even in a fairly educated middle class family;

women took great pride in following the custom of 5 days isolation willingly,

there’s a separate mattress for the menstruating woman;

even if she touched anything by mistake, some clean water is sprinkled to purify it again,

pursuing any sport or swimming, elders never allow;

all this shaming and the horrendous experience stays with me till now

my little mind decided it was best to hide period,

so, I just didn’t tell anyone the next time I bled,

what exactly happens inside the head of a teenage girl when we period shame her;

we are basically telling her that she and her body is dirty like a beggar,

all the itching, rashes were already a trouble;

now irritation and shaming are also a constant struggle,

I remember mom’s answer to how to buy a pad;

tell a chemist sheepishly, he will wrap it in a BLACK polythene bag,

not many women use cloth pads now;

but then it has to be dried in a dark, dingy place where no one would see it anyhow,

now Women have a HUGE role to play here;

by making periods shame free without any fear.

Opposites attract

Yash and Rita were totally opposite;

Rita was stubborn, Yash was apologist,

Yash wanted to fly high and rise;

but Rita always used to compromise,

Rita was not but Yash was anti-feminist;

and thus they fought a lot over it,

Yash yell a lot in their fight;

While Rita chose to remain quite,

Yash loved dogs and had one named Shadow;

Rita, scared of dogs still wanted one to be named Rambo,

if Yash was proton;

then Rita was electron,

but as the science says;

opposites attract in anyways,

so after every fight they hug tight;

and hence prove the theory right.

Blame game

From son to daughter;

from father to mother;

from brother to sister;

everyone blames one another,

whom to blame whom to not;

when things don’t go our way, we boycott,

the reason why we blame;

really sounds quite lame,

its just that we don’t wanna get ashamed;

so we keep our mischief self contained,

I know it requires guts to accept your mistake;

but please don’t blame others for God’s forsake,

so try to make an apology at least;

rather than blaming and becoming a beast.

Taboo

Breaking a taboo is extremely objectionable;

and in society, totally unacceptable,

although taboos are many;

one of them is terminating a pregnancy,

another one is alcoholism;

which is in no way less than cannibalism,

many more in the list like infanticide;

or having a pregnant bride,

from urination to menstruation;

from sex selective abortion to defecation,

from belching to slavery;

from spitting to pornography,

not only one or two;

all the above comes under taboo,

no no, the lists not ends here;

there are many more to fear,

inter religion marriage or masturbation;

homosexuality or miscegenation,

an act may be a taboo in one culture;

but not in the other,

now surely and certainly it depends on you;

whether you wanna follow or break the taboo.

An introvert

I love being aloof;

and being introvert is its proof,

yes I am the last to raise my hand;

even after a question that I completely understand,

I prefer not to engage with people;

who seem angry, upset or dual,

generally I don’t initiate even a small talk;

but when needed, anytime I can be a hawk,

although being introvert doesn’t makes me sage;

but still it gives me an added advantage,

like I am less likely to get bored when I am alone;

unlike those who have to loan friends when they don’t have their own,

so I do not make any effort;

to be an extrovert rather I choose to remain an introvert.

Most legal rape!!!

Marital rape, what the fuck;

some parents minds get here stuck,

no seriously, what does that mean;

after marriage, sex is obvious when you lean,

yes its obvious for sure;

but what if one don’t want it any more,

having sex without spouse’s consent;

is same as giving your car yourself a dent,

many of us are dealing with this;

but only a few have courage to overcome with bliss,

so its high time to raise your voice;

having intercourse not as a slavery but as your choice.

The first salary

That priceless moment of first salary;

Yash was having playing with the cutlery,

I guess it was lunch and he called;

when Rita was in office and she got stunned,

stunned becz he asked her for dinner;

but she somehow turned out to be a sinner,

she was worried b’cz her friends had made a plan for outing;

but she wanted to go with Yash as it was his first salary dating;

although she tried to wrap up fast but she was late;

Yash got angry may be this was just fate,

Rita appologized but all went invane;

b’cz Yash replied it was his first salary and would never come again.

Love birds

Rita and Yash;

had a crush,

feelings were more or less same;

and that even reflects in their name,

Yash was five eleven and Rita was five two;

but they both compliment each other like grass and dew,

Rita was moody and often gets stubborn;

but Yash always makes her up b’cz for him she was the only one,

although Yash was also short-tempered and makes Rita cry;

but then Rita always knew that his love for her was never gonna die;

So they never broke up as it was impossible;

still they had many breakups to make their patch ups memorable.