In an uneven and narrow
Misty alley
That belonged nowhere
I saw a turn
Behind which I was sure
I would find
Two white coloured clanking cups
Filled with a sweet concoction
Of steaming Irani chai
The faded blue wooden door
Still creaking under a pointed arch
Wandering gold and ivory threads
From the intricately embroidered elephants
On your pashmina, that I had borrowed
On a particularly cold winter evening
And never returned
Words from Rumi and Hafiz
That you read in one tongue
And I in another
The fragrance of musk
That my body had learnt
To associate with yours
Spaces between fingers
That were not for a moment
Left empty
Stars
That had travelled
From light years away
Only to reside in your eyes
Seconds
That turned too quickly into years
Time
That turned too quickly into space
And distance
I thought I would never be able to cover
But here I was
In an uneven and narrow
Misty alley
Just a turn away
From where I was sure
I would find you
But I never took it
Because, what if
I was wrong?
Mahek Jangda’s debut novel Against The Wind will be published by Hachette India