A love story that breathes in Chandigarh’s air
In Chandigarh, where grids of reason bloom,
The Sector’s heart holds chai and whispered dreams.
By Sukhna’s shore, where twilight softly gleams,
Two souls converge, defying life’s costume.
“Dusht,” she laughs, as crumbs in chai consume,
His poet’s heart entwines with her esteem.
Through Le Corbusier’s lanes, their moments stream,
Yet love, unspoken, lingers in their gloom.
From Botanical Garden’s embrace to café’s glow,
Their word—a bridge—binds what cannot be said.
On long drives past the city’s verdant show,
They weave a tale where hearts in silence tread.
Though paths diverge, Chandigarh’s winds still know,
Of "Dusht," a love that breathes, yet lies unsaid.
Parminder Singh, Chandigarh
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