I want to live as a lovestory of 90s
where there is no smartphone
neither blocking unblocking nor video calls
where there love breathes
with the innocence in two hearts
and shyness in four eyes.
where the photographs of each other
are hidden from the eyes of
cousins and family members
but the pillow cover conceals the secrets
and the happiness inhales
the afterglow of love
while kissing the photo behind closed doors
at least hundred times in a day.
holding each other's hands
and feeling the warmth of their heart
behind the college building,
near the English department
while hiding from the evil eyes
of the psychology professor,
they write their names on the faded walls
while chewing the Shakespearean love sonnets
and blooming on the Austen's Pride and prejudice.
where the love letters from each other
can increase their heartbeats
from seventy to one hundred seventy per minute
and the starry night waits with night jasmines to read the essence of love under the study lamps ;
the letter ends up with a heart
coloured with a red sketch
and an arrow from left bottom to right top
while the girl's name flickers there
and boy's name exhales comfort.
the oily hair of that girl
with a ponytail and tied up with a red ribbon,
a white salwar suit while going to temple ;
a light yellow shirt with a khaki pant
and a golden coloured watch
given by his father on his left hand ;
are more than enough to compliment each other
and push them towards each other's dreamy chamber.
but less often, I want to be a poet
and to write them on my horizons
holding a palette full of youthful metaphors
to cherish them and their lovestory forever.