Still My Bedsheet Smells Like You
I keep talking to you every day,
& never get bored by hearing you.
I keep laughing at your every joke
while teasing each other through.
I keep scolding you like,
"not a little work is done by you?"
You keep scolding me like,
"what will I do with this silly girl,
a little, angry baby of me,
without me how will you make your survival?"
Your baby girl has grown up all of a sudden,
now she doesn't show anger often.
Your absence makes her very mature.
Now here is no sign of that pampered,
no sign of that immature.
Now she can walk alone.
Now she knows how to wake up on her own.
Now she wakes up all of a sudden,
doesn't wait for the warm kiss to make her awaken.
Doesn't wait for the constant alarm of yours,
but wakes up smilingly after wiping those tears,
which only pillow knows.
This long one year without you
though sometimes was unbearable,
but sometimes I feel like I'm with you.
Though you have gone to the unknown,
years before;
But I never adieu.
And still, my bedsheet smells like you.
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