Things He Told Me — Part III

I’d say my guilt drives me down
the road I’d rather not walk without you.
We share the blame of our mistakes.
Our selfish needs get in the way.

Bodies intertwine in an exchange of words.
I give myself away for nothing but a smile.

I’d whine but my heart is full.
Overflowing as we speak,
Adding more with every sigh on my neck.

“You’re more in my head, I guess.”

I throw my head back and laugh,
Intoxicated with power.
But, the truth is you are the one holding the rein in your hand.
Let me go.

Things He Told Me — Part II

If someone gave me a time machine —
A time machine that worked —
I’d probably go back to a night of hushed voices and muffled laughter,
The only version of pillow talk we’ve ever known.

Being seventeen meant neither you nor I knew any better,
But, we were too busy talking to even notice.
We built our fantasies on nothing but clouds,
Wispy and filled with air, but so comfortable to float on.

I didn’t know the first word about love and you said,
“… and the best thing about him is that, he’s starting to fall for you.”
We laughed it off as a bad joke, but we hesitated.
There were many things I wish I’d asked you then.

But, I guess that little girl lived on those words for a week.
Put you on a pedestal built with the same pointless fantasies,
Just to watch you fall and not even being able to catch.

Things He Told Me — Part I

He told me he likes it when I know what I want
And then just go on and do it.
For someone whose stubbornness wrote her destiny,
I have been led to believe that you cannot want someone stubbornly.

That’s not how people work.
“It’s not that easy, you know?”
I know.

But, we’ll pretend we’re on this crazy ride,
You and me.
It’s a great story to tell even if we don’t know how it ends.
How do I make this end?

आवाज़

क्या तुम मेरी आवाज़ सुन सकते हो?
मनमानी से भी बात न बनी,
तो खींच कर अपनी आवाज़ को सुना दूँगी सबको।
जैसे किसी बादल ने बरसने की ठान ली हो
और हिचकिचाती नहीं।

एक अकेले कमरे की चार दीवारों के भीतर क़ैद,
कुछ पंखों को समेटकर,
क्या तुमने सोचा है कभी आसमाँ को चीर कर पार जाना?
शायद इसी को पागल कह कर,
उस चीख से भाग कर,
यह नहीं पुछा कि किस को पुकार रही थी वो आवाज़।

उस ज़िद्दी आवाज़ का क्या कहना
जो दीवारों से छलाँग मार कर,
हवा की गोद में उड़ जाए,
और खो जाए।
अस आवाज़ का कुछ कहना ही नहीं।
बस इस क़लम की सियाही से
दबा दो उसे किसी पन्ने के बीच।

आवाज़ों की आज़ादी से आपको ख़तरा हो सकता है।

Time Zones And Other Strange Things We Don’t Need

If you think time waits for no one,
I am going to try to change your mind.
Sometimes, my watch slows down time itself.

Our days and nights are separated by distance,
Your skies a different blue from mine.
A word from that end is all it takes to transport me to your nights.

It’s days like these that time remains immaterial,
As if nothing mattered – neither mind, nor matter nor me.
I wake to the sounds of my own days,
While you rest to your smoggy nights.
My watch, still on my wrist, takes time to come back.
The dials are stuck in your days and nights.

My days, your nights.
Your nights and my days.
Always ticking away from,
Not towards.