I will be a jar of iced lemonade on a hot July day when anything else fails to quench your thirst. I can’t promise you that I will keep you entertained till the last drop as most of the fizzy drinks promise to do, but I assure you that I will not give you bad after-effects.
I will be a scrapbook over-brimming with recollections, dog-eared with age and extreme handling. When your memory is too small to remember all the days, I will make you look back, walk far on the memories and fall asleep on my pages. I can’t promise you that I won’t upset your sinus. But, I assure you that I will help you retune your laughter.
I will be the fragrance you long to sniff whenever you are far away from home. I will pass you like the wind and tickle you like in a dream. You will unknowingly know that I am there for you forever and always no matter how aged we are and how far and away we live from each other. I can’t promise you that I will not make you homesick, but I assure you that the homesickness will not be intense enough to drag you home.
I will be the concluding note that makes your composition complete. I will sound the way your fingertips command me. I will bend myself to the tempo you set. And I will bring the silence you long to loose yourself in. I can’t promise you that I will not make you fall in love with my closeness and flexibility but I assure you that I will not fall in love with you in return.
I will be the hue that you feast your eyes in when the Colombo sun bids adieu from dusty horizons. I will be the tint that takes a handful of colours from your palette and still refuse to come into your painting. Thus, I will teach you patience and make you realize that, you are not the centre of the world, and having me by your side does not make you a king either. I can’t promise you that I would not hurt you, but I assure you that your stubbornness will have a fair battle with that of mine.
Like water and air, I will take the shape of the container you put me into. But if you fail to bring me the right container, I will be me and you’d better learn to take me as I am and tolerate my eccentricities.
I will be a scrapbook over-brimming with recollections, dog-eared with age and extreme handling. When your memory is too small to remember all the days, I will make you look back, walk far on the memories and fall asleep on my pages. I can’t promise you that I won’t upset your sinus. But, I assure you that I will help you retune your laughter.
I will be the fragrance you long to sniff whenever you are far away from home. I will pass you like the wind and tickle you like in a dream. You will unknowingly know that I am there for you forever and always no matter how aged we are and how far and away we live from each other. I can’t promise you that I will not make you homesick, but I assure you that the homesickness will not be intense enough to drag you home.
I will be the concluding note that makes your composition complete. I will sound the way your fingertips command me. I will bend myself to the tempo you set. And I will bring the silence you long to loose yourself in. I can’t promise you that I will not make you fall in love with my closeness and flexibility but I assure you that I will not fall in love with you in return.
I will be the hue that you feast your eyes in when the Colombo sun bids adieu from dusty horizons. I will be the tint that takes a handful of colours from your palette and still refuse to come into your painting. Thus, I will teach you patience and make you realize that, you are not the centre of the world, and having me by your side does not make you a king either. I can’t promise you that I would not hurt you, but I assure you that your stubbornness will have a fair battle with that of mine.
Like water and air, I will take the shape of the container you put me into. But if you fail to bring me the right container, I will be me and you’d better learn to take me as I am and tolerate my eccentricities.
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