The Nightingale

You crept into my dreams,

wearing the white sari,

with shy eyes, singing around the garden.

I was unprepared.

You took me by a start.

As I opened the studio door,

I became the voice I had always wanted to be.

It had to be in a single take they said.

The director and the crew were in action

behind the hazed glass panes.

I just knew the design as I stepped in.

They had laughed and scorned at me.

They had said that I sang in a female voice,

I copied Lata Mangeshkar.

I denied, defended and changed.

I mimicked the men.

One couldn't sing in a dream...some say,

one couldn't follow the words.

In my dream, all the defenses were broken.

The fake, female merged in you.

I didn't have to prepare.

I was You.