A love letter to the plants in my balcony

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As a writer, I'll always be interested in you.
As a writer, I'll always be detached from you.

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whenever someone says to you that they don’t want to marry or be in a relationship, they most certainly imply “with you” after their sentence.

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Holi is the best time to catch someone red-handed.

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My jeans, like my genes,
make for a good background to
my haves and have beens.

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रंग और उसमें सने मौक़ापरस्त हाथ
जिस बेफ़िक्री से अनजानों को छूने भागते हैं
उसकी फ़िक्र से कई गाल
घर से बाहर निकलने से डरते हैं

और तुम बोलने की जुर्रत करते हो
बुरा ना मानो होली है।
क्यूँ ना मानूँ बुरा?

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इश्क़ अक्सर तुरंत आता है
लेकिन देर से जाता है

बिन बुलाया जो होता है

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It is still easy to move on after breakup
when you both have loved each other
in the same city, when you have lived together,
when it was never long distance.
Moving on is quite literal in these times.
All you’ve to do is one day, pack your bags,
book an airplane to a strange city,
with no return ticket in sight,
and let yourself sink in its newness.

But what do you do in a long distance breakup?
Where do you escape to, whom do you
escape from? You have been with yourself in love
more than with the one you love.
No matter where you go, whoever you meet,
how can you get rid of the memories of
you talking, walking, panting, pleading, loving, living
with and for the one you love? How can you ever
run away from yourself in love?

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Your memories slip my mind
like a dollop of watercolour
slipping down the paper —
leaving a beautiful long
s
t
a
i
n

as if colourful rain.
But why does it pain?

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काम के बोझ में
तुम ऐसा डूबी
कि मेरा दम घुट गया

थाम के दिल को
मैं ऐसा बैठा
कि मेरा घर लुट गया

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