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If we were together

If we were together,

Instead of you in H--

And I in Delhi,

Here is a list of things we would do.

The thought is delightful,

Because I see

The sun beating down

And us walking down a hot road beside a lake,

You in a kurta and I in my faded salwar kameez.

It is a summer love.

Summer is when the best things always happen.

Then we watch a film

In a cooled cinema hall.

I come out feeling angry, while you

Drown in superlatives about the director’s mastery,

The actor’s dedication, and the ‘deeper meaning’

Of the film,

While I am like, ‘Duh! Everyone knows that.

Does it even bear saying?’

You ignore me, maybe even ask me to shut up.

I am a little shocked, then delighted.

What would we do,

If we were together,

Instead of you in H--

And I in Delhi?

If I had a room of one’s own,

If I were on my ownio?

On a hot, hot Saturday,

The fan would swing above our heads,

We would get bored and banter,

Make out a little,

Watch a film,

Be a little desultory

And fall asleep.

If it were a balmy evening,

Like the one on which we met,

We would smoke a joint

And get high

And laugh a lot

And argue and fight,

My heart would sway a little in fear,

But then hopefully it would relax

And I would go to bed at peace.

(What a shite piece of writing this is)

Added:

If you were in Delhi,

Or I were in H—

We would go to the old city.

Since it would be summer,

5 o’clock would find us

On the courtyard of Jama Masjid.

Before that, the moment

When the vastness of its symmetry

Reveals itself for the first time.

Inside, tentative steps,

Sharp breaths as the hot gasps of heat

Hit your feet.

Wind in my hair, the sun going down,

The sharp outline of an arch

Against a darkening blue sky.

As not knowing newer roads

Make one end up in Rome,

We would walk into Karim’s courtyard.