The Basantapur Chiya

I walked down the Basantapur galli,
the same one we’d walked last time
passing through my favorite house
and a hidden galli inside
where you almost held my hand
(or not).
The crowd was bigger and noisier this time
“It’s Friday” I heard someone say
and I sighed.
Hoping I would spot you somewhere,
wishing we would bump into each other
I searched for the perfect chiya
we never had.

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