Free verse and quiet poems — in English and Hindi — on love, longing, loss, and the slow work of healing.
The moment of my dream, I seek today…
the one I remember with your love…
the one that lasts in your remembrance.
I feel your touch in every pain I cry at night…
I look for you in my shadow, in the dark…
and I know you are with me, still.
Though safe in my heart, you are not in my mind;
though forever in my thoughts, you are not before my eyes…
I wish there were a destination for this sorrow I adore each day,
in this parted life of yours and mine…
Just your memory stays with me, day and night.
I held my breath,
and moved nervously toward her;
I held her hand,
and whispered my love.
Far from all the situations,
I offered her everything…
I held her in my arms,
and pressed her lips to mine;
I moved closer to her,
and promised a great time ahead…
Although I stood there long,
I am still standing there.
So many nights passed by,
and I wondered every day;
but she never looked back,
and I told myself, “the time wasn’t right”…
Yet I closed my eyes,
and dreamed of her again.
It hurts, knowing the reality is far away,
and I don’t like it anymore;
but I glanced back through that time,
and asked her to be mine again.
She didn’t understand — just like the last time —
and I offered her one final goodbye.
Pluck her not like a flower,
though she is the most beautiful of all…
Care for her like a child,
for she carries the one within her heart…
Ever look beyond her smile —
she holds a whole spring of happiness…
She has everything, and yet
she deserves more than a shadow of you…
And one morning, we cheer;
but she is in everything, and shines…
Far beyond the horizon of imagination,
she is the one — with everything in her eyes…
And travelling every day through her memories,
I wonder: is she the journey, or the destination?
But should I ever find the most beautiful place,
it would be no better than her heart…
The longer you stay with her, in joy,
the more beautiful the memories she makes — forever.
Her eyes may seem lost and alone at times,
but she is more beautiful than ever…
Glancing out the window one night, I see
hundreds of wanderers — of mine, and of yours;
all are a part of this night, and apart from the daylight.
When all are forks of my one, or many, desires —
what shall I understand from the faces of time?
It was long ago, in the bazaar of love,
when ships were sailing in the hue of sand,
and we travelled miles together —
but spent the rest of the journey in hate.
I hide myself in the sand of time,
passing through and through that mile;
she comes and goes with a hope —
one day, or one life, I’ll have her.
Like a desert with no reason for death,
I never could stand a reason to love again;
but with the grace of words, and of silence,
I speak my hate again — with a love for her.
She is a miracle of storm,
flowing away with every gust of the tale;
some are stories, some are fable —
but I just settle with the dream of her.
And with the loss, I conquer the fear of losing her.
A sea of hope, or the death of desire,
and the curling thread of thoughts
conspire — the smaller, the shadow of light;
yet harder it is to get by, in this time of thine.
But I cross the bridge with the company of her smile,
and in all that is left — the happiness of her, and mine.
Swiftly, she is flying through these dreams of mine;
and every time I look — just look — into her eyes, I find my own.
I hide myself from her world,
but how could I ever do that, with this heart of mine?
Hand in hand, the lovers and the beloved,
the loving soul of the world, and of God;
but now, glancing through the mirror of time —
just the remembrance of goodness, walking down the street, alone.
Alone, I was defying the world,
when she became my company;
the faster I reached for the sky,
the more she was framed in memories.
Like the changing weather,
I came to cry again in the raining beauty,
and alone, she sailed my way back to the sky —
never resisting the serenity.
All the way she travelled in a parity,
and all I could give was another parting;
and like an eclipse,
it shadowed my soul, and my clarity.
All I wondered was the joy of another divide,
and I travelled a year of disclosing;
but she came, a queen, and conquered the lost world,
and flowered joy like a sceptic beauty.
All the way she travelled alone,
but never let me feel the same;
and now I wonder — who is she,
and why is she doing so much for me?
And she smiles, and whispers something.
I do realize when goodness walks into my life
and becomes my friend, forever;
I do smile when she smiles back,
and how it becomes another memory.
I do cry when she goes away —
but out of everything, I miss her the most;
and when I lay my head on the greener grass
and feel the touch of her,
I watch her walking by me,
like the best friend ever — and forever.