colaba

it’s where

the sky turns to that exact shade of indigo he wore when i decided to love him forever
i wrote about when i decided to forget him
our djembe instructor from goa walks past and doesn’t recognize me without him
now alone, i smile at the theatre of first dates playing out on the corner table
every foreigner has landed in india two hours ago
their accents merge into an orchestra of language
the breeze is a potpourri of hashish and arab perfumes
poetry was written by candlelight and sigur ros during a rare electricity cut
the bead sellers recognize me
and the waiters serve me coffee with ‘smile’ etched in chocolate sauce

where
i decided to never be let down again
where
i was let down one last time before i stopped crying

(where i refuse to read shantaram)