Had I met you in the 70’s.

 

Had I met you in the 70's,

you'd be farther away than 

just a few clicks on my phone.

Maybe we'd end up in the same library

exchanging smiles across the table;

Smuggling polaroids & flowers

between the pages.

For me,

you would have been more than just

my love at first sight;

maybe you'd feel like home.

We might perhaps bond over star gazing

under the same sky - at different places.

Maybe you'll manage to cycle a dozen kilometers

just to see me - at the slightest chance you get.

The next week as we meet at our usual spot,

while 

'Chura liya hai tumne jo dil ko

nazar nahi churana sanam...'

plays across the street over a radio,

You'll tell me how beautiful my eyes were

and I look aside blushing.

Maybe time would feel the slowest,

when waiting for your letter at the threshold,

for straight four days.

On a finer day,

one of us might possibly be brave enough

To admit their feelings

And end this silent adoration.

You'd say,

for you, beauty would be

my unbraided hair tucked to the side

And me in black bell-bottoms with brown floral prints.

For me, the idea of comfort would be

the forehead kisses affirming "It'll all be okay".

Had I met you in the 70s,

it'd all be a different story.

You'd probably turn out as the black rose

in a world of whites and reds,

that I'm in love with.

Maybe this love would have

its own share of tears and laughs.

And just maybe, at 11:11 every night,

you'd find me writing love poems,

All on your name.

- J.