If you stop liking me, if you choose not to talk to me the way you used to, I can’t do much but can only wait like an empty boat waits on the shore of a river, and a torrid, charred earth looks at the clouds for hours. How a bird unable to return timely to its nest gets drenched in the rain; waits for the downpour to stop. And a newborn tries to convey his hunger to one and all. Certainly I will knock at the doors of your heart once… twice and may be some more times and would pass by like an easterly, a rainfed wind of a strong monsoon or a fleet of Siberian migratory birds never to come back soon. Even if you cease to exchange words, I can't request you anymore and can only wait to hear the soothing voice of yours again. Don't know, I may not feel the warmth and oneness, and the distance of an armlength can alter to a lightyear gap of our hearts. You shall be surrounded by your friends, foes, admirers, adversaries…laughs and cries and varied colours and hues but only seldom I will come to you to bother you and be with you again….