Love along the way

   It was love along the way.

   I was sure. But I did not want to tell you so.

   Because when love admits itself. It dies. Or so I felt.

  We drove together. Mountains and hedgerows.

  We chatted endless. Cafes and roadside dhabas.

  Your laughter challenged me. I almost kissed you once.

  Ruffling your hair, I controlled.

  Destination was close. I knew we would not meet again.

  Flights would criss-cross our fate.

  And we will become sweet memories to each other.

  A ping. A mail. An occasional call, maybe. Or am I thinking too much?

  I refuse to let you pay for the cola. You smirk.

  Keeping the bill, I started. Souvenirs were never so important.

  So, there we are. About to say good-bye.

  The lump in my throat tells me it is not a crush.

  It is love along the way. I know that.

  Did your eyes show signs of moistening? Or so I’d like to believe?

  The hug lasted more than friendship. A little more than travel-buddies.

  You left. I left too.

   But something felt right within. And it is the feeling inside.