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Of love, longing and a passport

passportAnd you are not mine,
I told you as I ran my fingers through your curly hair,
You looked into my eyes and said everything I have is yours,
What do you want?
I just want your passport.
Passport? You silly little girl…
Yes, it’s your passport I want…
so that tonight you will not fly away..
I want you here under the September Sun,
I want you to lead my way through the crowded streets,
I want you to hold my hand as we carve our own little world
In the midst of sweating millions and a thousand colours,
I want you to buy me that huge dark gulab jamun sitting prettily
On a plate in the mithai shop,
But you have to go…
With the passport kept safely in a leather pouch….
And you told me you have to go…
Yes, I know you have to go
But you know I will grow old while you are away
And there will be one more tomorrow without
You and Me not walking hand in hand
On the streets.
Full of faces I don’t know.

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About Deepika Sahu

I earn my living through writing stories, editing what other people write (in simple terms I am a journalist). I dream of opening a cafeteria in the mountains, owning a beach home on the shores of Bay of Bengal... but right now, they all seem like wild dreams.. A gypsy at heart --- am passionate about life, music, words, cooking for people I love, soaking in the lashing rain and just looking at the changing colours of the sky.... And I am a great fan of the Indian Railways and I long to travel in First Class AC coupe across India.....with my man

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