Walk with me through the storm beloved
Walk this long winding trail
Accompany me through the tempest
Through the onslaught of rain and hail

When thunder tries to shake us apart beloved
Let’s hold each other near
With you by my side when the lightning strikes
There is nothing I have to fear

The downpour is picking up beloved
But I know we will be fine
There is no storm I cannot face
As long as your hand is in mine

In the midst of a moonlit avenue,
You and I stumbled jovially across the pavement,
Giggling at each other’s absurd motions
Only to both tumble backwards.

With the evening’s beer still fresh on my lips,
I took a reckless dive at a kiss
But to my surprise you reacted with oblivious indifference,
As if my gesture was forgettable as an irksome breeze.

Instead, you reclined comfortably on the cement,
Letting your rippling hair flow in the caressing starlight,
And marveled at the celestial luminescence above us;
A million petite crystals dancing over our heads.

“One day you will find me waltzing with the stars,”
You said, rocking your head back and forth as if
Mystical ballroom music were playing in your mind.
“And I’ll shine like a lantern in the night sky.”

Perhaps it was a alcohol conjured vision,
But I could have sworn the pearls of your eyes
Glowed as the words glided off of your lips,
Ascending into the midnight sky.

I may have never known your name,
Or from where you came,
But I know your final destination.

When a shooting star streaks through space
Dabbing the night in a silvery melody,
I’d like to think that it is you,
Waltzing in ecstasy across the moonlit sky.

Cities aren't cities,
The people are the cities,
she'd say, and I didn't understand
what she meant until I realised

That Hauz Khas was our first stroll ever,
Khan Market- our best cup of coffee,
Humayun Tomb- our first stolen kiss,
Dilli Haat- our first quarrel,
The Lodhi Gardens- our biggest quarrel!
The Jama Masjid was where we'd always make up.

Now I know which market sells her favourite
bags, which gully keeps the anklets
she loves most, which discrete stall in the
by-lanes of Old Delhi is her best chaat-wallah ever,
Every nook, I know by the fragrance of her memory,
I try forget, I try erase,
But oh, I remember,
For she is my Delhi

Delhi is her, only her,
The city of first love, first dreams,
a million rights, a devastating wrong,
The city that now stings with the thorns
That make my feet bleed when I try to enter,
Even with my back turned,
The city hurls
Stones at my fragile heart and screams at me
to never return.
*I'll never return.