If I could, I would write great literature about us

I have read so much Rumi, Gulzar and Ghalib,

That I have all these words floating in my head

And I’ve always wanted to weave you a poem with them but I just couldn’t

Unlike you, I have never been so good with words.

But you make me want to try.

I first tried writing poetry the day I saw you moving into the house across my street

I wanted to write about how contagious your laughter was, everyone wanted to laugh with you

I tried writing poetry the day our eyes first met

I compared your almond eyes to the deep oceans or maybe the morning sky

I tried writing poetry the day you slipped a letter through my window

You called me breathtaking or was it intoxicating, I forget, its been quite a while

I tried writing poetry the day we went out for the first time

You couldn’t afford to buy me dinner so you took me out for breakfast 

I offered to pay but you convinced me that hot tea tasted better when shared from the same cup

I wanted to write about how that became our morning ritual

I tried writing poetry the day we said our first i love yous

I awaited a glorious dramatic expression of love, instead, you just looked straight in my eyes and said it

And somehow, in that moment, it felt more than enough

I tried writing poetry the day you climbed the tree outside Singh uncle’s house to pluck me some night jasmines

You said they were nothing in comparison to my beauty 

Your flattery never really fooled me but I enjoyed seeing you try

I tried writing poetry the day we shared a bed

Your timidness was such a contrast to your robustness outside those four walls.

Your deep breaths sounded like music to my ears,

And your bulky arms suddenly felt like home

I tried writing poetry the day your mother said I brought out the best in you

Because I too fell in love with the version of myself I became around you

They say love brings out the best in you, does it though?

Because that day, when you rang my doorbell stinking of alcohol,

You forced yourself on me

I kept saying stop, no, go home

But it seemed as if my voice didn’t reach your ears

I felt violated 

I could never be with someone who didn’t understand the concept of consent

My Adichie, Angelou would be so disappointed if I let love overpower my self-respect.

I walked out, 

I walked out of your damned life

And never looked back

You denied me the respect I deserved,

So I denied you the love in my heart that you owned

No no

Don’t worry, I received your apology letters and heard your cassettes with songs about me 

Don’t worry, I know you were sorry, I know that you truly did love me

But love does not conquer all, thats only for poetry

It has been 30 years since we last met 

But it is right what those poems say about first love,

It isn’t easy to forget

But neither is the first invasion of personal space no?

Well I did move on, 

I forgave you for causing me so much pain but I never forgot how unsafe, insignificant, and endangered you made me feel 

I shall hold you responsible for all my pain

I shall hold you responsible for all my trust issues 

But I shall also hold you responsible for all my poems and shayaris and stories

Because you see, I tried writing that day, with all that chaos in my mind and disbelief in my heart and all that anger

And,

I wrote my love,

I wrote

About you

About me,

About us.

And since that day I’ve never stopped writing

In unloving you,

I fell in love with my words;

I befriended my pen and seduced empty pages

Now, that is the love story of the era

No?

Don’t frown, I still reminisce our’s

It was one for the fairy tales

I loved you immensely, perhaps I always will

But I loved myself more

I hope Rumi, Gulzar and Ghalib don’t cringe at this

But I wrote poetry for you too 

मिलूँगी फिर तुमसे

उन्हीं गलियों में

गालों को होंठ नहीं हवा चूमेगी

कानो में आवाज़ नहीं चुप्पी गुंजेगी

मलमल के कुर्ते में नहीं पेड़ों के फूलों में दिखूँगी

सुबह की चाई पे नहीं शाम के सजदे में मिलूँगी

मिलूँगी फिर तुमसे

उन्हीं गलियों में

अब साथ हम नहीं पर यादों का मेला ज़रूर होगा

अब इस जनम में तो प्यार नहीं शायद अगले जनम में नसीब होगा

अब तूमसे कोई गिले-शिकवे नहीं सिर्फ़ इकरार होगा

अब इस उम्र में तो नहीं क़यामत की रात मिलना होगा 

पर

मिलूँगी फिर तुमसे

उन्हीं गलियों में