Listen to the Cupid.

Crowded Campus. Early Winter’s eve,
Inching towards a beautiful Dusk.

Two absent-minded figures hurry through the jostling masses.
Unknowingly, towards each other,
Towards the inevitable.


To the ground.
Bodies fall, Books fly.

He had been humming a favourite tune of old,
Mind lost in Melody.
Weaving She had been, Words out of thin air,
Poetry out of Nothing.

No arrow strikes the heart, No violins play a lovesick tune.
Instant Dislike.

‘Looks SO vague. Does he even know where he is?’
Thought the petite damsel,
Scrambling to her feet. Much annoyed.

‘Is she a pixie? ‘, was all the otherwise charming lad said.
Thankfully, to himself.

Looking daggers at each other,
Without exchanging a single blessed word,
They stride off to their Opposite Worlds.

‘Lets never meet again.’
They silently promise themselves.

Hidden behind a tree, Cupid grinned.

The Authoress wielded her mighty Pen,
The Musician readied his majestic Flute.

The battle had just begun.


2 Comments Add yours

  1. Srinjita Bhattacharyya says:

    Medha, wow. *_*

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