Friday, January 3, 2014

Ours is not a mere paragraph; a short story or novel. Ours is an infinity of words.

Did you know that
 when I share  love quotes
 with you,  I mean them?
 I may not have written them
 but I relate to every word.

 I wish you were the kind
 to get poetry, I wish you
 loved poetry.

Who would marvel over Eliot
 and Kafka and Murakami and
O’Henry and Shakespeare and
Pablo Neruda and obscure
writers who touch me with their words.

I know everyone is not
wired the same;
and there are so many things
we do have in common;
and there are so many things
I don't get about you ;
and there are so many other things
about me that you DO get.

Yet I crave for this too.
Because words, simply put;
are beautiful, in every possible way.

 And I don't know if you know
 the nuance that separates
always from "Always".

Or that gibberish also has meaning.
And that "lost in translation" is a real thing.

 And I don’t say it but wish
 you understood when I make
literature references.

Or that I refrain from making them
coz it's too difficult to explain the context.
 And that by the time I do explain,
the spontaneity of saying it gets lost.

I will always have other people
to talk poetry but
sometimes I wish I could talk about them
with you too.

Because I want to be able to
talk about everything with you.

We are not made of atoms;
 whatever science claims.
We are made of stories.
That is NOT a romantic notion.

 And I guess being practical
and not caring for romance
is a facade for the world.
I have never been a cynic.
And I still wish that flowers never die.
And I laugh when I say this
and I hate to admit
that I am, after all
a romantic.

And if you're my Fitzwilliam
and I  your Elizabeth;
we still don’t have
our very own dance yet.

And when I found you, I knew
you were my Flynn, Ron and Darcy
all rolled into one.

But I wish I could tell you that.
One day I will; and if you're listening
you will hear me whisper:
Will you be Jim to my Della?

 (and I will be hoping that you say “Always.” )


~Anjee Bhatia

27th November 2013




Dedicated to A, my poetic license. 

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