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.

yesterday has come and gone
it's getting harder to stay strong
every action, I have owned
every right and every wrong

tomorrow isn't a promise made
and yesterday cannot be saved
another sunset, I watch fade
another day closer to the grave

Lost a few pages in the book of life.. noticed,
When trying to bind it all
Lost friends to the earthly cycle,
Who were with me through sins and bar mitzvah
Lost the love of my life to eternity,
Why did I stay back, for more experience?
It’s time for me to surrender to a world of emptiness
Where I can see faces, but, can’t make out who they are
Did I lose myself in transit OR is the transit lost on me?

He comes knocking your door
Buys things you need no more
Weighs and pays for discarded load
Then goes off to another road.

For your pound he pays pence
Makes it seem in perfect sense
The deal is only if you're willing
To barter the old for new shilling.

You feel he adds some happiness
Clears the dirt creates the space
Your home was long a messy lot
With no place for new things brought.

Not all old things are like that dirt
A few are ever new are your part
He never asks them to be sold
Knowing you wouldn't for price of gold.

let's all revel in the duplicity
duplicate posts that lack authenticity
authentic thoughts fall to the simplicity
simple minds are guilty of complicity

a new origin of no originality
original thinking crushed by formality
formal rules lead to our commonality
common perspectives to lower our mentality

At the night,
In its deep darkness
I see from afar it,
In this dream so fuzzy,
I see this smile,
In a world of shadows,
I feel this courage,
In this abstract reality,
I hear this voice,
Fact of this fertile silence,
I have think of the eternity.