Lost Moments

Now that
We have grown old
Our faces are like
An Ocean of time
Waves flowing down
I pray to wake up
Tomorrow morning
Wearing my familiar night gown
Before I forget
Your name and face
Hug me tight and kiss me bright
Tell me precisely
How much you love me
And please do this
Every moment till
My memory is alive
Till you become a stranger to me
Till I begin my struggle
With our identities
Till I ask you
Who are you?
Till I tell you
Not to touch me
And pull you apart
I know it kills you
Moment by moment
To be lost and found
Moment by moment
I am sorry
I just don’t seem to recognize
Things at times
They call it Alzheimer’s
For me it is like being
In and away from love
From spring to autumn
From bloom to gloom
Every time I am back
I want to be back in spring
I want to bloom
So hug me tight
Kiss me bright
Till I fall apart
From the branches of your arms
Like a dry leaf
In fall

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About neetuwali

Hi! I am Neetu. Who am I? This question is very difficult to answer. Well! If you insist, let me reveal. I am a human and like every other human I eat, sleep, drink, dance, sing, laugh, smile, cry and so on. Hang on! There is a difference. Unlike most of the human beings, I breathe and when I breathe, I relax. When I am relaxed, I draw. I draw sketches of me in words. I have been orbiting around sun for forty years now. I started this journey on the Valentine day of 1974. I have seen people craving for heaven and I was born in the only heaven on earth (Kashmir). My Grandfather was a spiritual personality and a renowned poet of his time. Though he left me around 35 years ago, I couldn’t let him go. I carry him in my eyes and mind and will do that till the end of my life. I hate words, yet I am full of words. I know words cannot express, yet I express me through words, because they are the only medium I am familiar with. That is why I try to express me as much as possible with as minimum words as possible. When I did Masters in business administration, I never knew, writing will be the only business in my life. More than hobby writing is a necessity for me, because it helps me get the load of thoughts off my head. I don’t remember when it that I wrote my first poem was. But I surely know the time of my last poem. Surely,not before my last breath.

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