Supreeth Madduri

The sound of a dropped coin  Into the piggy bank sounds like a desperate lover awaiting  at the opened doors of his heart. May be, that's what savings should Sound like. You put all your happiness into a whiff  Of desperation, that you slowly inhale, To make your heart ready to be served. Similar to inserting the coins, one after the other until the intensity fades. The art of saving, require a lot of talents. You need not put all your heart and soul in a single go. Relax. For instance, if the moon is shining bright today, save it for your darker days.  You see? Saving is an art. If you're wasting your love, hold on. Save it in your pockets, in your favorite books, in your diary, in your smile and most importantly in your belief. Let it entangle with every nook and corner of your bones until you feel like investing your savings on something worthwhile.

I have read about Casanova,  Cleopatra in the pages of  lust and seduction;  Whose eyes were made of love and perfection. I have read about the cosmos, about the space, about the time, about space-time, the dimensions, about parallelism in universe, And also about your selectivity  Of actions and words. Strip me your thoughts of far away world of granular dust hovering around. The art of seduction, as the books  mention, is a sardonic expression. Space and time slips away to  a world where 'Einstein' is an alienated term, with you standing naked with your words, alongside me. Looking beneath all the myths and theories, I find your eunoic to be far more seductive.

I see faint light glimmering through the hole of hope, flickering incessantly. I strive pretty hard  to get back at you, like a cuckoo popping out every hour, reminding  me of how eager I am at the closed doors of your heart. May be I shouldn't have met you, in the first place. Second of all, I shouldn't have  dreamt about our children,  our house, or anything with you in it. May be, you were my favorite lesson in my history class. Just so you know,  I used to hate history, Only to eventually admire it now. I stare at the flickering light missing your palms  and talk to myself  Saying, whatever will  happen, will happen. And may be that's how  I should be living. Picture courtesy: arvin_illustration (Instagram)