A donde sea que voltee, veo amor
En cada rincón de la ciudad,
lo escucho en las canciones,
lo leo en la poesía,
lo veo en los ojos de las personas

Por mucho tiempo busqué el amor,
sin dirección,
sin un propósito,
sin saber siquiera qué era lo que esperaba encontrar,
lo que era el amor
No puedo negar que lo he encontrado, en varias formas,
de distintas personas,
en cantidades diferentes e intensidades variantes

Pero el amor no es algo que se encuentra
El amor se construye,
se cultiva con cuidado y cariño,
para, cuando este haya madurado,
cosechar el fruto obtenido
y poderlo compartir con otros

A donde sea que voltee, veo amor
y es que he comprendido que el amor vive en mi
Yo soy amor!
y no hago más que ver el reflejo de mi en otros,
el reflejo de la esencia que me llena y me da vida
Un corazón latiente, bombeando felicidad a través de mis venas
Con cada nueva herida, sangro nuevo amor
comprensión de mis semejantes,
de mis circunstancias,
de mi mismo

Por mucho tiempo busqué el amor,
y hoy, por fin me encontré

the town i was born in wasn't big enough
to contain the vastness of my dreams
so i moved out
i spent hours upon hours on the bank of river yamuna
looking for a sign
completely forgetting that a dead river can't speak
i misunderstood its silence for an invitation
so i moved in
i traded my inner peace for smoke filled air
and my innocence for the facade of a happy woman
delhi, i spent years of my life trying to fit in
to make sure that i belong
then why do the stares on the streets
tell me that i don't
delhi why have you been so cruel to me
like a failed mother forcing her expectations on her daughter
no matter what i did
i was never good enough
every time i tried to speak
you just didn't want to hear
you're a city trying to hide its deafness from its people
delhi why are you so unfair?
you throw stones at the workers that build you
and bow down at the feet of your destroyers
maybe you're just as confused and tired as me
people have taken more from you than you could give
so you stand exhausted, defeated and short of breath
and i do the same
for both of us have failed miserably
i could never be your daughter
and you could never be my home

when my boyfriend
rests his head on my chest,
he listens to my heartbeat.

I wonder if he knows
what is in the blood
that thumps beneath
my rib cage.




I wonder if he can hear
fists smacking chins

and drunken yelling

and noses bleeding

and children crying

and pill bottles opening

and ambulances blaring

and parents fighting

and skin slicing

and screams muffling.




I wonder if he can hear
the ***** music

and funeral speeches

and lives ending

and hearts breaking.




I wonder
when he listens
to my heartbeat,
can he hear

where I come from
and what I am made of?

can he hear
who I am?




and I wonder if
he could hear
all of those things,

would he still be here
with his head on my chest?

To this day,
your name
still hurts my tongue
but I still say it anyway.
Sometimes I like to
hear my soul
gently tear itself
apart.