Kya tumhe semi-cooked pyaar hua hai?

It all started with Pabs
Hum bole – mujhe tumse behad mohabbat hai
Kya tumhe bhi kabhi pyaar hua hai?
Mujhe doubt hota hai
Tumhe sirf mujhse hee pyaar hai
Wo bhi semi-cooked
Mujhe bhi bohot hua hai
Semi-cooked pyaar
Woh picturon ki tarah aahein bharna
Aur fantasize karna
Ki agar tum mujhe date karte toh kaisa hota
Tum ye kehte, main uss baat par khoob hasti
Hum sex karte, hum cuddle karte
Mixed with so many kisses

Wo semi-cooked pyaar
Jo har call par sochta hai
Ki tum meri aawaaz sun-ne ka bahana kar rahe ho
Aur wo jo kehta hai
Ki tum picture ke wo hero ho
Jise abhi tak pata hee nahi hai
Ki use heroine se pyaar ho chuka hai

Wo semi-cooked pyaar jo gas par chadhaa toh
Kuch aag bhi jali thi shayad
Dheemi si khushboo mujhe aayi
Shayad tumhe bhi aayi thi
Warna hum dono hee
Naak uthaae kyun hote bhala
Logon se bhare iss kamre mein?

Semi-cooked pyaar
Mehak bhi aati hai
Bhoonk bhi lagti hai
Par khaali paet
Khaali dil
Hee sona padta hai

Cat kiss

Forever eluding and often angry
For leaving him alone
Sometimes when I embrace him in a hug
He claws to run away
And sometimes he stays
Looks into my eyes
And blinks oh so slowly
The book on cat behaviour says
He's offering me a kiss.

It is easy, so easy
To know his kind of love
But with humans I want
Only one kind of love.

My attire for first dates is a lose shirt and running shoes
Which is funny for a person who doesn't run, physically at least
A yellow light, I like honest broken conversations
And prefer an almost love story to none
Or one
Where my heart gets broken
Fencesitting is fun
When you're at Marine drive with the setting sun
Yellow lights, some movies say, can lead to great love stories
Can someone not meet me there?
When we're not on a date
And I forget my running shoes at home?

The bags being packed revolted to stop
Like the cat that will claw at clothes, skin, human
To stay out of the cage
For him, this was a home
For me, this was a home because of him
We wept silently when he was around
And loudly when it hurt too much

The luggage continued it's strike
With jamming zips and spilling clothes
Tuck the right end in and the left spills
Tuck the left and the right falls
Tuck it all, and the heart weeps

When will we find a home? they ask
Bags not infected with wanderlust
Those that like the slumber of empty, light, and free
Those that like being open for the cat to sleep

But the bags must get full
And in the process, I must weep
The cat must get into the cage
And in the process, I must bleed