Square Meters

The colours of the walls

Have changed

From gold and turquoise

To silver and mauve.

We’ve moved onto

Umber furniture

From white ones.

There are a few more

Square meters added

To the area,

And even more frames

To cover the walls.

The posters and, planners

Are rolled-up in boxes

Under the bed now

And the paintings from

Last month are showcased in

The gallery facing the balcony.

We’ve made the guest room

The study-cum-library,

But the room feels incomplete

Without my bookshelf.

We kept the bookshelf in trend

For seven months and nineteen days,

But since it couldn’t house them all

We brought in the one

That resembled my childhood bookshelf.

And like my childhood,

Each shelf is stacked twice

Along with greeting cards

As fillers to be showcased.

You still ask me to put up photographs

And, I still can’t

Nail my walls with

Permanency susceptible to change

Because filling the holes

Is a tiresome affair.

We debate for a middle ground,

You demanding for photo frames

On table tops and, shelves

And us settling for

Photo albums and,

A few photo frames.

The room changes

With me,

And I if stepped into it today,

You’d see the change

And wonder if I carried

Anything along with me

Through time.

But if you looked closely,

You’ll see the similarities

Sanded and primed

Into the walls;

Curated in the furniture

Stacked in novels;

Hidden in photo frames

And embodied in the vibe

That resonated me.

If you looked closely,

You’ll see the growth –

The changes and,

The constants.

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