Burden of being lovers

 The burden of being lovers


Rita stood near the gas stove, waiting for the dal to cook,

Her husband languorously sat on the sofa ,waiting for the sms,

Their daughter avni waited for the first move from the boy she liked. 


The burden of being lovers,

It haunts us at the loneliest times ,

In the crowd, 

At the bedside when it's 2 am in the morning


In the kitchen when the cooker's whistle blows, it brings Rita out of her memories,

In the living room, where her husband wakes up from a mental nap of dreams,

Their daughter Avni when she watches a movie while thinking about someone else.


This burden of being lovers,

The precious time spent thinking,

Anticipating, waiting, expecting, 

Manipulating our own mind with thousand of thoughts,


Why we aren't lovers like before,

Rita questions her husband in her mind,

Because we are parents,

Her husband calculating the installments in his head,

The only respite he sees now is the extra bonus,

Avni worships the mobile and says a prayer in the head.


Why does restlessness follow us when we are in love ?

Where is the peace which was offered first ?

The first meeting, the first sigh , the first fight,

Where is the eagerness to see someone again


The burden of being lovers,

You name me something, and i will call you something,

We will name the relationship to carry the burden for a lifetime,


I will write poems on back of bills,

And i will hum a song for you while paying the bills,

We will give our installments in small pieces of hearts,

One day when we won't have anything to remember by, we will have the saved receipts of our hearts,

In photographs, videos, in gifts which we will never use. 


The burden of being lovers,

The novelty wears down, Rita thinks,

It becomes then a routine, instead of joy,



As they sit down at the dinner table,

Each one a little shrunk by the burden of love,

Wife thinking about the salt in the dal,

The husband thinking about the promotion,

And their little daughter at the doorstep of love,

Each in their own world and each lost too. 


The burden of being lovers,

What brought us together, sets us apart too.

Time being a fleeting memory,

What brings us back to love again, are the precious memories carved in our souls too.

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