Wise or Weird

He was acting weird
Running and jumping
In the middle of a road
Rolling down the road
Playing with pebbles
Singing and laughing
Crying and weeping
All simultaneously
I found myself engrossed
In his act of innocence
For all obvious reasons
He was mentally sick
Was he?
No, because what
He did next
Proved he was
More than wise
He came to me
And handed me a note
It read
Do you need someone
In your life?
I am saying this
Because you seemed so cool
It seemed you were
In no hurry
To go home
When everybody else was
If that’s true
You can call me
Because as you could see
I too am in no hurry
To go home
I smiled
And was about
To tear the note
When something stopped me
And I placed it in my wallet
Carefully!

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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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