some old friends - aftermath

while scrolling through your feed on instagram, an innocent jealousy messes with your head when you come across a few beautiful pictures of some old friends.

unwillingly, you like some posts, skip some, however, ignore the most.

Finally, you bump into a plain but nostalgic poem – “some old friends”

“no one reads these days!”
tired and stressed out, that’s all you can say.

sighing, you fall facedown onto your bed,
throw your phone away,
put a messy cushion over your head,
and take a nap to escape away

rhythmic tremors
earthquake!
bloody no!
it’s your phone, idiot.

vibrations, they certainly disturb your soul in a dreamy state, don't they?
in your dreams, you were probably in heaven drinking wine with sultry demons.
you check your phone with no emotions, “mother!”

you keep the phone silent and flipped it over;
it make you believe that you fortuitously missed some more calls.

still lying on the bed with a restless mind,
state of jactitation,
you feel an ineffable agitation.  
finally, you give up the treacherous sleep in utter frustration.

you have to call back. as usual, within a few minutes, the call ends with unrevivable emotions.

at night, sleep and many thoughts are in your mind.
you happened to meet “some old friends” again.
relaxed, you give it a read this time,
and someway reach – reach the fourth verse and first line.

“getting fattier” – you read. “nah!” you chuckled prettily.

the next moment,
you subtly hold your belly,
so nobody can catch you in flagrante delicto,
albeit you’re alone. you smiled a little at your foolishness - i know you never accept - you’re getting older.

do you remember the time when we went some place and did some mindless activities?

you know, sometimes, i feel…
i feel…
i’m lost for words right now.

in spite of all…

it’s going to happen - duh - the reunion i don’t know when, but out of nowhere, you’ll get a call around the last week of a fall.

“hey! I’m at your door,” i’ll say.

late i but not regretful i

for the people,
i know - you’re reading this.

for the rolling stone,
someday we’ll explore the nearest fancy place to eat
as your wife will give you less time as you’re a father now.

for the troubled guy,  
we’ll sip tea somewhere in the mountains,
surrounded by tranquility.  
hope nothing will trouble you then.
be there with me,
and enjoy the toxics running inside your bloodstreams.

for the girl,
you always leave me on read. you think - I always hit on you.

i will meet you for sure
i'll flirt again.

for the wife material,
i'll love to meet your husband over a glass of aged spirits.
mustn’t worry you i’ll not let him drink much.

i hope he’ll not kill me with some nerdy jokes.

for the experimenter,
hotness of may,
your tanned body can be found walking through a dessert
or repairing a broken engine.   
next time, with you, i shouldn’t be confounded.
“life is an experiment,” you always say.

for some old friends,
many years to come, many years to go.
have to escape death many times.
survive until I meet again.

i’ll come – i promise

redhya and friends

***

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