Do you rememer

me dragging you

to the wayside dhaba,

hoping for juicy bits-

of chicken, glances,


Do you remember

the time when lewdness

was an exciting, tingling


Do you remember your

level-headed dampners

on my many exploits

And the times when

we used to walk

miles into the future,

weaving dreams dizzy,

fuzzy and in a tizzy.

Do you remember

the day we walked out

of a movie,a juvenile

statement of maturity?

Do you remember

those lil fights

and you taking the first step,

always and me,

following, always.

Do you remember

our shared love-

of pickles, jamuns, trees

and boyishness

Do you remember

the nights we spent

chatting about things

that could be,  should be,

had to be?

Do you remember

you and me

pacing anxiously,

wondering who

would want me;

Did I make it all about me?

But you were the tapestry

that let me weave

my colourful yarns.

I remember you.

P.S: Tom, I had you in mind when I wrote this one. You made REC, Surat what it was for me.

About rashmenon

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This entry was posted in friendship, poetry, relationships, teenage, time, woman and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to chick-kin

  1. balu says:

    One of your best, Rashmi. Well done.

  2. Neetika says:

    Very very beautiful….. and very touching! The person you wrote this for must have been very special indeed.

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