You Know You are a Poet

You know you are a poet
When your girl-friend
Wants you to miss her B day
Because she doesn’t want to
Read another write

You know you are a poet
When your friends enjoy the
Beach party
And you find yourself
Searching for a piece of sand
That no waves can carry away

You know you are a poet
When stars turn into glossy leaves
And moon turns into a bright fruit

You know you are a poet
When you sleep
On a bed of paper
Making love with words whole night
Under a dim light

You know you are a poet
When the flight of a colourful
Kite
Is more important than the snake l
On the ground
So keen to bite

You know you are a poet
When the weight of that paper
In your hands
Is more than the weight of
Paper in your pocket

You know you are a poet
When you don’t know
Till your friends
Call you so

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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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