I enjoy my company, but I do of chums too.
Busy in my own zone, mind scratches, reminds me to call friends, chat and text.
I dust my mind's chatter in the garbage bin along with the vegetable peels.
I like to meet people and converse but to a point.
The tireless ring of the phone or incessant flow of the messages is a hinderance
Watch videos, pictures of friends and post likes may cheer them, but it saps me.
Talkative by nature; I call once in a while.
As I write the poem, I remember my dad's frequent bargain
of five rupees, if I sealed my lips for ten minutes as a child.
How suffocative was it for me, to be quiet back then
when to socialise was the only skill, I thought I had.
I treasure my friends too, but prioritize my time more
It's a long road, where some old ones slip by. some new ones get added.
Each friend is important; I am sum of their impressions and influences
Just because I call or meet less, does not weaken our bond.
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