I saw you again, not in presence, but in light,
A flicker in the reel, a whisper in the night.
Your hands, adjusting your saree with grace,
Unaware, you burned your name on my gaze.
In a crowd of colors, you were the calm,
A breeze in winter, a hush in a psalm.
I laughed at my heart, stubborn and wild,
Still dreaming of you like a foolish child.
They say fate draws lines we cannot bend,
That some stories are not meant to transcend.
But I—
I have danced with the idea of us in my mind,
In a parallel world where rules are kind.
You wore tradition like a crown that day,
And I, a silent poet, looked away.
But in dreams, I held your hand, so light—
Not to keep, just to feel it once right.
They won’t let me call you mine, I know,
Same roots, same echoes, that’s how these go.
But hearts don’t know of caste or clan,
They bloom when they simply can.
So if you ever wonder, even in disguise,
Why a breeze feels familiar, or tears just rise—
Know this:
You were a chapter I couldn’t rewrite,
A light that warmed me… then slipped out of sight.
