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Conversations…

Conversations are born
At most unexpected places;
At a party
Where you know no one,
On a street
In a strange country
On seeing a fellow
From homeland;
Instant recognition
And exuberant smile
And a sigh of relief
For making a connection;
A natural need
Of every human being.

On running
Into a childhood friend;
Its you, isn’t it
And then pick up
From where you left,
With ease, catch up
Talk about family, job
Life and sundry things…

At airport lounges,
Railway station waiting rooms
Or cabins and berths;
When you pass around your Tiffin
And shyly other, first declines
But then extends the same courtesy
Diffidently.

When someone asks the time,
Or requests may I borrow
Your paperback…
A virgin territory
No baggage, just
Possibilities…
Bloom like flowers
As morning Sun rays
Wake the buds
With warmth and hug.
Or radiantly blush like
A grass flower
Beneath a bare tree;
Visiting cards are exchanged
As the destination arrived at…

Conversations have life,
Alive, like trees in spring
In full bloom;
Animated expressions
Eye contact
Nodding head
Wistful eyes,
As tears slide down
Like rain on windowpane.

Momentarily miss the thread
Distracted or
As autumn sets in and
Reflexes slow down…
A chance remark stirs
Deep embedded
Memory, a flash back
A pause to
Gather oneself;
On the pretext of cleaning
The reading glasses

Conversations have personality;
Witty, vibrant, absurd,
Sentimental, friendly,
Stimulating, monotonous,
Frivolous, like two young lovers
Whispering sweet nothings;
Conniving
Like a politician
On a road trip
To woo the not so simple,
Rural folk…

Conversations can be difficult,
Stillborn, aborted, forced
Mutilated, mundane, insipid
Noisy
Tiresome, tedious,
Volcanic, destructive
When there is disagreement
Followed by deafening silence
Or banging fists on the table…

Conversations have momentum;
Get derailed
Or go off tangent,
Voiced raised,
Heated exchange,
Body language undergoes a change
Or take off like an aeroplane
After warming up on the runway
Maybe nosedive
Due to a tactless statement…

Conversations have progeny;
Wit, humour, laughter
Wisdom, insight, understanding,
Bonds, illumination
It’s like cuddling
Yourself or a
New born baby…

Conversation die;
When hearts are closed
And mind rigid;
Walls are built
Brick by brick,
Knots are tied
Tight,
Fists
Are clenched…

Conversations have rebirth;
When one transcends
Negativity, resentment
To reclaim love
That had gone to sleep
In a stupor,
For lack
Of reciprocity,
Mental formations;
Given space
They bloom like cacti
With a little nourishment
In arid terrain.

Conversations can lift
One to dizzying heights
When you have them
With Him.
You can pour your heart out,
Whine, complain, beseech,
Argue, pray
He allows you to have
Your say, listens without
Interruption, with compassion…
After having poured your heart inside out,
You feel a calm descend;
Silence and slowly clouds
Drift, Sun shines
Making you feel confounded; why
It took you so long to
Recognise you had entangled
Yourself
In a web of your own
Making.
The soul opens, receptive to
Exulting in this moment of
Possibilities…

Conversations are about
Innate need to connect;
To be understood, heard
To express deep reservoirs
Of emotions
Or else
One feels suffocated…

Conversations
Are in endangered list
For fear of becoming
Extinct…
For now strangers
Are suspect;
People have no time
To say hello to
Themselves;
Relationships die
An unnatural death…
Everyone complains
I don’t get enough space…

Who has the time or
Inclination to talk,
When the mind is
Overcrowded and
Preoccupied…
If someone by mistake
Asks how do you do,
You say, oh great
Everything is fine.

But if you have dough
And no ego issues;
You can go to a therapist
Pay one grand
And lie on his couch,
For forty minutes
To be heard
While he pretends to listen,
As you unburden yourself
And he thinks of his
Next trip abroad
And
His bank balance…

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