A Dance

By Preetham Halwi

Part I: Youth and Turning Tides

The night she bloomed, eighteen bright flames did glow,

We sought the city's night where spirits flow,

Her birthday marked, we drank with heedless glee,

And lost, for moments, what we ought to be.

Too swift the cups, too fierce the fleeting fire,

And closeness kindled something like desire,

But fate, unkind, her balance stole away—

She fell, and darkness stole the rest of day.

That night, for her, became a hollow page,

Erased by wine and youth's impetuous stage,

I stood, a guard beside her silent form,

My pulse a storm, my heart a quiet storm.

Yet life pressed on, relentless in its pace—

We chased the stars, the dream, the scholar’s grace,

Boston and Harvard called us to their gate,

We pledged our paths, companions joined by fate.

Then came a shift—unexpected, unprepared,

A child unborn, whose burden must be shared,

Though not by blood, by choice the bond was spun,

A weight we bore together, both as one.

I stayed at first, but slowly came the rift,

Our joined ambitions found a fatal drift,

And I, with dreams still blazing in my chest,

Departed West to seek what we called “best”.

Part II: Return and Redemption

To distant coasts I turned with aching will,

To chase the dream our hearts had once held still,

The city called, ambition forged my path,

But silence trailed me, shadowed by the past.

The letters waned, then ceased to come at all,

And love grew faint beneath that silent pall,

What once was bright became a muted flame—

Two hearts adrift, with neither one to blame.

Yet deep within, love’s roots refused to die,

They clung beneath the soil, though the branches dried,

Through tempests cold and time’s unyielding hand,

The bond endured, though neither made a stand.

And then—by grace, or fate, or quiet call—

We found each other, humbled by the fall,

No bitter words, no tally left to keep,

Just eyes that met where once we’d dared to weep.

We dropped the past like autumn leaves in flight,

Embraced the dawn and stepped into the light,

Hope warmed our hands, and trust began to grow,

While love returned with a soft, forgiving glow.

Our vows we spoke—not trembling, but clear—

Each word a seed that bloomed despite the years,

And when the clapping rose from friends and kin,

We turned and let the dance at last begin.

By Preetham Halwi