To the Former

Dear former love, you know this well — all the world's exes were lovers once!
Once, so much was arranged for that lover,
dreams scattered handful by handful.
Through all that heap of dreams, in the end, springs the blue flag of separation!

Dear parting, dear beloved,
even now at midnight my chest trembles thinking of you, tears fill my eyes.
Even now I wake from sleep, half-drowsing, searching for your touch.
Even now I imagine the phone will ring, and you'll laugh and say,
'Come, darling, push away all this playful pretense — how can I live without you?'

Well, tell me truly now,
does someone new love you just as I did?
Do they long to hear your sleepy-voiced first hello like I did?
Do they plead for a rain-soaked kadamba blossom?

Do they say to you, like I did, 'Why not wear the black sari today?'
Do they want to see your eyes, touching them a thousand times?
Do they call you by some private name... their own name for you?
Do you fight with them too about what to name your daughter?
Do they kiss you in the rickshaw, pulling up the hood?
Do they hold your hands tight, just so?

I remember how carefully we two had planned —
we'd have a daughter, her eyes so full of tenderness,
just like yours? Do you remember her?
Whether she'd call 'Mama' first, or 'Papa' —
we'd fight about such things, I remember it all...

For that non-existent, yet-to-come child — maternal love and deep affection,
in my intimate imagination her eyes, nose, mouth... her whole form,
the sweet ache in my chest and yearning... to have her...
all that still clings stubbornly in faith and feeling...
just as the tenderness remains for you!

Even now sometimes in the haze of sleep I dream
you and I are walking along a path through green fields,
between father and mother our little girl
walks with tiny steps, giggling with such delight!
Yet see, before my eyes
you are not there, nor is our daughter,
only some dead shadows remain, and dream-ashes!
Dear former love, as much as you are past, you are still beloved!

Once I was your lover — by that right I say this, listen:
take very good care of yourself — I'm not there now, so you must!
Walking life's path, when you lose your way or at some street corner,
we'll meet. That day perhaps, two forever-familiar faces with unfamiliar eyes
will turn away and take different roads.

Some meetings happen without words.
Some words happen without meeting.