Small Talks |
By: Preeti Vyas |


Blank pale faces,
Unusual silences,
Awkward eye contacts,
Cold glances,

Randomly choosing a place,
To sneak in through the sides,
Oh, yes the corners,
They do make up a good hide.

Wearing a face, a bland demeanor,
Suggesting preoccupation, urgency,
Fidgeting over things,
Let it be an empty bottle, pen Cap or those surfacing screens,

Tilting your head,
Moving it around frequently,
Searching an element of activity,
Staring at infinity,

Taping feet at random tunes,
Starting continuously at the watch,
Moving fingers through the hair,
Adjusting the perfectly set glass,

Scrolling, Scrolling,
Scrolling till it pains,
Adjusting your back against the support,
Where it unwillingly rests,

Listening to the distant sounds,
And each passing sequence of breath,
Is it the silence?
Or the limits of concealing extending at a stretch?

Can I hold it further?
Can I? Oh, no!
The urge to let it all out,
Strikes a suppressed ‘hello’.

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