Ghost of Chances

The question is I don't get how people believe,
That as well as they know themselves, they know others!
And then they say "Your fault is thinking bitter,
And thinking women sleep with monsters."
I know I need to give it a shot,
It's the Ghost of Chances, it makes no promises,
It comes when You least expect it and doesn't when you want it.

It's strange how when I sit with you, an hour turns into 3 minutes,
Just as weird as women *tell* lies, yet *whisper* secrets,
N how with you, a simple September night becomes over moony and inlet-warm,
And how downloadable- nice sounds a normal song,
And how you let me kiss you when you are on a phone call,
And you suppress all your desperation in your heart :P

There is match-making in your job,
A secret- keeper in your dog,
Pleasure in your stubble against my back,
Happy complacency being around u where u stand,
A party where no 1 intrudes,
Smiley-ness in your room,
Happiness when we stand next to your window,
As the moonlight plays its "touch and go"
Can't remember what pulled me so strong,
Maybe it was your eyes, now maybe your arms,
Sure they sent you out of nowhere,
It feels like it was yesterday,
And also feels like a lot more,
And maybe I like u more than before,
So Dost thou know who made thee?
And sent you as my gravity?
It would be easy to love you,
But just as hard to see you leave,
Cuz who knows if you would ever return?
Loving is indeed the toughest thing to learn!

Bitter Hearts...

Do you possess that brutal, cruel heart,
The one that will use me and never look back,
Do you own the ruthless, frozen heart,
The one that I have been looking for?


Are you that snake-eyed dog?
The one that will wander off
just when I will need another touch of those b’ful hands,
The one that will get Alice-lost
in another one of those wonderlands..


So, Are you that misery-candied guy?
for whom a lot of girls have written sad songs and cried?
The one that makes plans and never replies?
Cuz that’s what I want!
I don’t like those love-sick butterflies!


I will drown in those ocean eyes,
and put my life on those foreign lies,
So do you possess the Arctic-cold heart?
Cuz I think that turns me on!
just the fact that when I will need u the most,
U would be long dead and gone,
But if love is what you are looking for,
Then baby I will be swanning out that door!


 So are you that barbarous face with a pretty mask?
And are Gloomy nights only when you call,
The one that waltz only on dingy songs?
The one that will be playing with my heart?


Oh! I don’t mind, no I don’t mind at all,
infact  it makes me want you all the more!
And You can avoid me for a month or long,
but I will just be happy when u will be back for more

So are... Are we the bitter hearts
that people are scared of?
The ones that are always on the rocky road,
Driving break-less down the mountain slope…

Was not like the movies!

I had seen all those movies,

Had learnt the expressions by heart,

Would have played it with ease,

Had they given me the main lead’s part!
but then they did not!

Had read Mills & Boon even more,

I behaved just like them, even the way I swore..

I knew what was gonna come and how shit would roll,

Just Cupid had to draw back his bow and let his arrow go,
but then Cupid would not..

It wasn’t like the movies, not even close,

There was no rain, not that I can think of,

And when it did rain, I don’t remember dancing with him

Or which “him” is the right H.I.M, I don’t even know!

Nor did the rain soak through my clothes,

Nor in the background did the music play,

Nor did he run after me when he hurt me and I stormed away,

Nor did we sit down as the Moon watched us below ,

as we watched it sail over our shadows,

He didn't stand outside my house throwing pebbles at my window,

He didn't do what lovers do, well maybe thats fiction.
So yes, he chose not..

I think I made you up inside my head!

I don’t think I like his eyes

Although I have told him that I do

Right would be –

i only like them  when they are looking at me

Or when they are trying not to!

And he is over-right some ways yet so bloody twisted,

Its weird cuz I just can’t get him,

Yet I want to.

He would invite me and wont come sit with me,

N I sit there wondering what to do.

He attracts me and Its frustrating,

They say “forget waiting, u go make a move”

but I sit there fuming, cuz I am way more wise for 22.

And I wont even sit with him in the same booth or the same seat,

But something abt his presence near-by makes me feel so complete,

He is 95% my reason to go to a particular club,

Makes me think he is pretty much good at his work!!

And then half the times I m looking at him,

when he would look around and crack another joke,

N the minute he looks my way, I make sure that I don’t.

And then he gets up and walks away,

When his duty calls or girls,

And I hate him from all the hate God gave,

N I wonder what a girl in my shoes does.

But I am way too wise to waste my night on guys

So, I go down to dance before anyone even knows,

the disturbance of my countenance, all the same that I have felt before,

Plus I wont wait all my life 4 someone to take me on the floor.

But there is something about him, I dont yet know what it is

He just has to say the word

and I am listening with all my life and drunken consciousness

Sometimes I feel like I am making him up!

But without him,

I would be a stranger to these feelings

A stranger at a party thinking at whom should she be looking

Stranger in a jungle of the same breed, different colour
And then getting tired of waiting for love to find her

Comparing guys and settling for someone who shines brighter

n getting drunk enough to meet someone new

And another night that she blew

Then succumbing to reality, maybe forcing herself to get smitten

A Stranger to these lines that She would have never written.

Maybe its his rude-hindi that I think is cute,
or the fact that he has no clue what I want him to do,
or that he has challenged life's safety of the so-called routine,
like a free flowing ocean, born on the fifteenth,

So I sure as hell can look at him and pass this time

Without regretting another 1 of these never-ending wasted nights...

The French Guy!

There is something magical about tonight

Something about that left raised eyebrow

Something about that cold-beer dimpled-smile

Something that he does to my knees, something to my mind

A little to my heart, a lot to my universe

Even more I am sure he does to all those girls

the crowd moves around and I can feel his presence

he talks to another girl, so I talk to another guy

but I feel complete for he is around

With his sexy smile and left raised eyebrow

He makes his way past the crowd to me

And tells me “How many guys are you talkin to in here”

Or something like that, cuz da moment he spoke everything blurred

I couldn’t hear a word his beautiful mouth occured

Don’t know whether to blame the noise or the drinks

Or my continuous amusement of whether he is a reality

He talks to me about his life

And I don’t think I looked anywhere but those eyes

I tell him I am not ready to date another one of the losers

And he calls them “dickheads”, Oh! He makes it sound like “Rose-bed”

He tells me he doesn’t wanna be in a relationship, also

And suddenly I m praying he changes his mind the first thing tomorrow

Oh! You can’t blame me

blame his dreamy voice and his French chivalry

Those sweep me out of time when he stands there infront of me

Or  blame the way he kisses me

Or how his stubble feels against my back

Maybe his way of talking so soft and slow,

Or his knowledge about the way to my dreamland

The way he texts me next morning asking if I am hungover

his non-chalant countenance or the stolen kiss

It would be here, right now, if there were any bliss.

And he looks around on the floor, they don’t dance

They drop n break the vodka-sprinkling glasses

Like they break hearts

Callous and unconcerned right from the start

I didn’t see if they broke glasses anytime

I was so lost in my mind

I was so lost in his eyes

When I take off my heels, he gives me his arms as support

He tells me to stay close for there is broken glass on the floor

Ah! And the way he runs his fingers when he holds my hand

I knew I had met a lot of guys but tonight I met a man!

Sometimes...

And sometimes it’s the memories that kill me

Sometimes its the fact that we still have memories

Sometimes its you, sometimes its me

Sometimes it’s the other girls

Sometimes it’s your words

The good ones begotten w/o intending

The harsh ones from deep within

The sweet ones merely outta good mood

or from the effect of the Moon

Sometimes its your infidelity

Sometimes its my treacherous need for freedom

Sometimes its these mood swings

For, It’s a birth right of every woman!

Sometimes its your shady behavior

Sometimes it’s complications sketched from the presence of her

I wish we could be measured with a thermometer

Cuz sometimes we r December-cold and sometimes we r July-burning

Sometimes its way too less, sometimes it’s a lot like love

They say - To love would be an awfully big adventure

I am pretty sure I can trek, if u were a mountain

But I cant trust the mind of a man,

the land slide that u might plan

I hardly talk about us anyway,

Just sometimes to my cigarettes and ashtray

You make it so bloody hard to love you

And harder to like another one of your race!