On the risk of sounding like a creep
My heart writes this poem that dives into deep
Oh, Saanjh, as your name implies
You create magic, with an evening enchanted by true beauty.
Just like the lone moon, who is a lover of a million
You acquaint yourself with new faces every day.
yet you remembered me by my name.
the insignificant me who is oblivious to my own self
There is metaphoric truth in your stories.
Eloquent and mesmerizing are your poems.
Impeccable is your command of languages.
Should I give credit to the chai in your hand?
whose very sip your lips take,
and beauty drips out of your mouth as a ghazal.
There is evident joy as you sing old Hindi songs.
and the empathy and pain in your shayaris.
Like the diamond on the queen’s crown
that is unaware of its power.
You may not have realised it.
but you made a mute talk.
as you radiated a safe and welcoming aura.
My pen trembles as I write this for you.
yet it does not stop.
