The Small Things

 

it started with small things,
the short calls,
the stealing of glances,
the friendly small talk,
the short walks,
down the dew-soaked alleys
the light gusts of breeze,
the measured smiles,
the few words,
and the long silences

and then -
the impatience grew,
waiting for the doorbell to ring,
and the hearts melted,
the banter went on and on,
from books to paddy fields, to lilies,
and the moon,
and when they ran out of breath,
the looks filled the silences
and she nibbled at the starched dupatta
unaware of the tides
that'd started pounding in his heart

spring ushered in life,
and added spring to their feet
her tea poured warmth into lives,
and the warmth outlived the tea,
the catch-ups grew long,
the nights, longer
he, wandering among his stars,
she, weaving her dreams

it's back to the small things, again
the flashes of memory,
of the lips curling up into a smile,
many moons back,
the small sips of chaas,
and the looks locked, barely apart,
the little gifts of moments,
of the few words,
and then the side glances took over,
and silence was never louder!

it started with the small things,
it's back to small things again
will we become small stories, one day,
or, will we merge again as tiny stars?



© sashikant mohanty