A Walk with You

This poem is inspired by Frank O’Hara’s Having a Coke with You

“A walk with you this rainy evening

 is so much more fun than being at the cinema, catching the late show for a favourite movie

or riding a meandering tram past the Maidan greens on a foggy wintry morning

or even feeling the breeze lift my limp tresses as we pass under the Howrah Bridge

as our boatman sings in a mournful tone

partly because with your red umbrella and shiny eyes

and your mobile mouth, you are a lot more fun than a darkened film hall

and because your stories make me laugh more than watching

the silly puppies play in the sun at the ghats

partly because I like holding your hand as we walk

sidestepping the puddles of water

partly because everything around us seems so alive

and glittering and filled with colours and constantly moving water

partly because I like how you blow into your cup of tea

and ask me whether I would like some lemon with mine

as we sit under a tarpaulin roof pregnant with the monsoon

with only a wet cat and a stoic chaiwallah with his ancient stove

we finally walk into the academy and park our umbrellas by the door

inside it’s strangely dry and I miss not leaning on your arm as we see

this painting of a group of crows with beady eyes

or that of a wary fishmonger bargaining with a customer holding a hilsa

with scales as shiny as the water which is falling outside

and then again I come upon this painting of a woman by a window

I look

at you and I would rather look at you than all the art in the world

We walk again outside and debate heatedly what that painting of a few blotches of blue

could mean and we stop and laugh and laugh and I am happy I am here in this moment

with you and no one else.”