Poem No. 3, no rhyming-whyming again



In the crowded room
and their silent world

Their fingers flew in the air, gesticulating wildly
A language only they could understand

He spoke about his love for cricket
and she, of her patients in the medical unit

He was concerned about her working late nights
and she, of his brashness at times

She admired his new shirt
and he, the jasmines in her hair

She laughed aloud when he said he had learned how to cook
and he chastised her for making fun of him

Its friendship day, he casually mentioned

And in the crowded room and their silent world
Their eyes spoke of feelings more profound