need a reason to love.
But I've seen her in a
wolf-cut and saree.
Jasmine flowers and
oversized hoodies.
Jingles of silver
anklets while she walks
in combat boots--
Cargo pants go
seamlessly with the
glass bangles that
are dotted green.
The leather jacket
and a tiny black bindi.
Ripped jeans and
elaborate jhumkas-
She says 'Ayyo' while
ordering sushi.
Looking like tomorrow,
carrying yesterday
effortlessly.
Ohh! the kathakali
adorning a Gothic
building-
Perhaps it doesn't
need any reason,
Just enough contradictions
maybe.
It's a third grade
anomaly in a
second grade heart.
Love is a wound that
doesn't subside but
compels you to
scratch.