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Part II : E minor

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चलो कुछ रोज़ हम
अपना सवेरा ख़ुद करते हैं,
सूरज से पहले
सूरज से ज़ल्दी उठते हैं,
धुंध से टकराते हुए
किसी रस्ते से गुज़रते हैं,
कोई धुन गुनगुनाते हैं,
किसी सैर पर निकलते हैं,

कहीं दूर तक फैले हुए
मैदानों की हरियाली हो जाते हैं,
किसी की चर्चा, किसी की
चाय की प्याली हो जाते हैं,
उलझे बिखरे बालों में
बहती हवा से कंघी करते हैं,
कोई धुन गुनगुनाते हैं
किसी सैर पर निकलते हैं।

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As sure as daylight
turns dusky
we get another
daybreak.

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The alarm that bells
my suspension ;
from the nestle of
my blanket to the
raggedness of daily chores.

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And I knew exactly how the sun
Rises during every daybreak

When gradually your lighter hue
Faded away my darker shade.

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I have these random conversations with you
in the middle of the night and
trust me they mean the world to me.
These endless chatters with you
until the day breaks
and then
I have stood there
long after you have faded
in the morning light,
looking forward to the night again.
That's what keeps me going perhaps.

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Basking in memories.
With utter grace and grandeur.
Of those passionately surreal deep eyes.
Of those warm hands as gentle as sunlight.
I remember it all as clear as paradise's nightsky.
Our beautiful empyrean daybreaks.

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You are like the twilight sun,
I like the daybreak moon.
After all, how could there be a meeting?

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Between the night
that ends
and the dawn
that breaks,
there is an
unnamed hour,
when the sun
kisses the moon
with a raw fervour;
that can only be felt,
never be seen
by eyes,
I will wait
for you to knock
on that hour,
and remember to
whisper ever so softly,
that even the pleats
on my green blouse
blush; a pinkest red,
feeling like an intruder,
clinging tight to simply
melt into oblivion.

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Stardust is still just dust of you look at it.

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