Missing the Mrs.

I am back at staring at the night again

The crescent moon and the fading stars

On the chair I lay back

And light the last cigarette from the pack.

My mother never let me smoke inside the house

Thus an excuse to bond with the lonely night.

High above a hill, I saw a house glittering

Or may be it’s a star trying to touch the hill

But neither did it matter nor did I care

My thoughts were already on the last conversation we had

Our last chat actually, internet does wonders

Keeps us connect, over all that distance.

Now I wonder what you must be doing.

Are you thinking of our last conversation too?

Or are you out laughing with some friends?

Did you smile today? Was I the reason?

This is suppose to be summer, why am I feeling cold?

I wonder if you are feeling cold or hot just now.

What do I do? Whenever I am not chatting with you

I am thinking about you. When I am chatting with you

I am thinking about you sitting there and smiling

And whether I am saying all the right words or not.

When I am not doing that, I am dreaming about you

And wondering if you are thinking about me too?

And when I am not doing any of the above

I am simply missing you and hoping that you are missing me too.

I have been dreaming again, the cigarette almost burnt out

I take few quick drags, shit, my last cigarette

The light on the hill seem to have disappeared.

So, back to the bed now, back to surfing channels

And soon I know I’ll lose myself in the world of Hollywood and Bollywood

Until sleep takes over.

Good night My love

I love you, and I miss you terribly.