TO YOU...

I did want you differently
Not like the way you are
Thousand brooms made my mind
Had it hidden in the changing wind.
You are at the back in Ninth
You were in red, I found the sea
You were sixteen
In my bare sight of the late teens.
I could remember the book was opened
There was the wind and "Rupasi Bangla"
I could hear the train as it railed
You passed the road, nobody claimed.
You were fair as my hopes
As the tiny leaf in the spring
You were sixteen
Never gazed at me burning.
You were in red
When you left me in the dust
Running towards the pale stairs
Still I call you - a name of a brook "Titas".
I die to love you
Though I do not like the way I do.