(This is my first attempt at ‘prosetry’. Well, I started to write a poem and it ended up looking like something in between)

Remember when I was almost run over, as you scampered away

afraid to know, afraid to face?

perhaps loath to look into my eyes,

afraid they might not mirror the transparent love brimming in yours

your brain—left though it is—must’ve been teeming with a zillion impulses;

yet you dug deep and plucked out an eloquent “I like you.”

 

But hey! Who am I to judge your acuity?

A face like pebble and a pace like snail was all I had to offer

speechless and emotionless—giving the pole I brushed past a tough fight

No wonder the cabbie misjudged the turn

If it were not for the rogue thread in my silk scarf, caught nastily in the metal mesh,

my inertia would’ve continued to cause some interesting road incidents.

Remember? The green D’day scarf?

Ohhh! Who am I talking colors with!

 

I think you were still walking your crazy sprint-walk

perhaps warming up for a run in case you got slapped

What if this is a prank? I thought of all your capers I shamelessly fell for

What if his friends are hiding in, ready on cue to point fingers and laugh in unison?

 

You looked prepared for a slap—stoic, with a pose slightly biased to the dominant right cheek

If it were indeed a prank, you had the makings of a Broadway star

 

I wasn’t too psyched to embark on a ride this time

So, I asked “Are you kidding with me?”, betraying all my naiveté mid-question

“No, not at all.” Phew! Not a slap so far!

“Then, are you serious?” I was the champ at asking insightful questions 

“Yeah.Yes. Of course.” You were always the glib one

 

Okay, this is a proposal, no doubt now. 

I have to respond, but I don’t know how

A mere “yes”?—too pedestrian

“I love you too”?—dripping with desperation

“Why did it take you so long?”—too histrionic

 

“Same here,” I blurted, disrupting the soliloquy

You paused a teensy bit; I bit my lip

Did my clumsy reply make him second guess? 

And then I saw—a face never quite resplendent

as if my words flushed your pallor a bright cherry red

I could’ve kissed you right then!

 

As I sit down today, to reminisce those moments of childlike joy, of nascent love,

all I can say is that our decade-long (and counting) tryst has had its share of tranquil drizzles, of raging tempests, and of purely transcendent Mumbai rains.

 

I am glad it really has been that long.