Forgotten Saturdays

Those forgotten Saturdays

remind something of you.


I'm no way

trying to

bring back

the memories.


You live 45 miles away

i still drive around on a bicycle.


The crazy long afternoons. When the two of us used to sit idle and stare at the empty world.

Making pictures of the Jesus.

We kept on doing the same things every day.

It was never boring,

never went lazy.


Dropping you late in the evenings.

Started calling you early in the morning.


We knew that one day it would all be forgotten.

It is not something "we were afraid of falling in love".


"We were not afraid of falling in love.

We were just afraid of losing ourselves."


"Not committing anything to anyone".


We were getting ready for something bigger.

Something bigger than love.


You living 45 miles away.

I carry the world on a bicycle.


We started living different lives.

Your work took you to a different city.

May be, into the arms of a different man too.


People do not only change cities when they move.

They change lives as well, I know.


I invested my savings on a small cafe.

It was always the plan.

I guess i'm happy

looking at people

coming,

leaving

and leaving behind.


My Saturdays

now

are spent

serving people

who

are tourists,

fathers, mothers, daughters

and misfit souls.


I'm happy

how

things

have turned out to be.


When i see

people doing crazy things

in and around.

I push myself,

laugh at myself.


It all takes place

on

those forgotten Saturdays.


Comments 2 comments

Mhatter99 profile image

Mhatter99 4 years ago from San Francisco

great poem, but not a limerick


Rajan Dhir profile image

Rajan Dhir 4 years ago from Delhi, India Author

@Mhatter99

Point taken. I appreciate your support.

Thank-you once again.

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