A Love Poem

It's raining outside
And we've decided to make
a meaningful evening of it
We are very serious - both of us
Though we allow ourselves
Sweet sidelong glances

I pull myself a chair
and he leaps to it
'It's not for you,' I frown.
He vacates pronto, and picks
an odd spot on the floor.
Together we hear the squirrel's song
and watch the trembling leaves.

Really, he's watching all that
and I am watching him.
He's still very young
and so fascinated by it.
As the rain chuckles at us
and the wind pushes us closer,
he sends out a faint 'meow'
and looks at me to add my bit.

Make a beginning

That's the difficult part
they say,
Making a beginning

Everything else, just
falls in place

First, a sense emerges
Over all misty meanings

What looked random
then appears
all planned, deliberately done

Distractions dissipate
As do multiple ways

There is only one road thereon
And it's not hard to take

You just roll thereon
the predestined path
before you so grandly laid

There is no looking back then
That's why I am
so afraid of beginnings.

Buyers and Sellers

Don't ask me if it's good or bad
Hell! I don't even care
What's wrong with being
Buyers and sellers?
You buying me some flowers
Me buying you a muffler,
That would be nice indeed.


But what if you could buy some poise
And I could buy some courage?
Me buy your ideas And you my words, maybe?
Wouldn't that be something?


Then  would you also buy my voice?
And would I buy your truth?
Would you buy my outrage?
And I you conviction?
Doesn't matter good or bad
But would we? If we haven't already.

A THOUSAND AND ONE WAYS

Its quite easy actually,
The poetic among you
can use words
The intellectual
can use logic
The scientific
can use nature
The pious
can use commandments
The political
can use fear
The academic
can use history
And the brutish can
ofcourse use force.

There are a thousand ways
You can kill a woman
or more, now that I think of it
Why, even the foolish can use
their fool-proof prejudice
But for her to live
there is just one
impossible way
That you simply
let her be.
 

A NATION THAT FORGOT

A Woman, who was once a force,
became a fear
A Man, who was once a creator,
became a cog
An Animal, that was once a god,
became meat
A God, who was once a fact,
became fiction
A Tree, that once stood its ground,
became a log
A River, that was once a panacea,
fell ill
An Art, that was once a shastra,
became business
A Pleasure, that was once infinite,
became g-spot
A Life, that was once karma,
became a car
And a verse, that was once an epic,
became this
Because a nation, that had lived so long,
just forgot.

PAPER WOMEN

You can pour your
heart on them,
Or you can crumple
them, junk them
You can tear them,
burn them
You can cut them
into pretty things
You can paint them,
paste them, flush them
You can press your
tears them, or blood or snot
In peace, you can tickle
accords on their glistening backs
In war, they will be the weapon
or the victim at your command.

And if indeed, your bag
gets too heavy with them
You can simply leave them home
and let them gather dust. 

PERFECTIONISTS

Half-a-woman
she was
no beauty
no coy
no mystery,

and half-a-man
was he
no grit
no rich
no logic.

No people these,
wandering
in their world
of no words
no language

and yet, look,
in the arms
of a shameless
night,
they weave

Our world of
full women
robust men
and clever
things to say.

FANCY DRESS

Now there's so much
that I could be
Super-man
Magic-man
Satan
Time-traveler
Jinni
Alien
Mutant
God
And what am I?
A mere man.

SWEET DREAMS

I am in mood, for 

indulgence tonight
with vicarious will
and little insight

Come to me, dreams 

that couldn’t be,
naughty fancies
of terrible delight

So many will come tonight

with love, fame and jazz
to lose breath to beauty
judgment to genius

Women and men I couldn’t love
and words couldn’t own
beauty could never sell
and gifts couldn’t keep

Of so much I couldn’t be
Tonight I will dream
Not of the best
but sweetest.

F.I.R

There was a
storm last night,
the one they had
been predicting
for years,
and in the
misty, moist rain
the survivor
draws a list
of valuables
blown away:
broken phrases,
unfinished stories,
an ordinary name.
But they tell her
its not done yet,
the storm will

sure return.

GHOSTS

It was something I saw,
don't remember what.
Something shamefully
trivial, my heart
was set after.

And though I tried, and
tried for an eternity, that
something, of all others,
I couldn't have.

So when eternity ended,
I took a deep breath,
bowed out, heaved
ahead my quiet life.

Rebuilt what had been
washed away, a world away
from where the dead lay
Till  a happy life came
to live next doors
and I knew it was,
that hearth that dance,
my lost dream.

NOT BAILING OUT

9...8...7...6
falling free
effortlessly
nearing end
in ecstasy

5...4...3
clouds rushing
into my face
pressing wet
out at corners
so hard to breathe
their tight embrace

2...1...0
loved life but
loved living more
i fall to feel,
live the void,
what fills it
or doesn't.

To My Daughter

“How the stars made?

nd how grass grows

so tall? Tell me papa

Cause u ave lived

nd u know all.”

“It’s a funny world Navvya

For years we live

Knowing nothing at all

Neither today

Nor years hence

I can tell you, how

grass shoots up straight

Story of how stars

were made and trivia

around us sprayed…

But I do not know

The truth and

live years in

the loop of

honourable dark.

Do not learn

from me doll.

Weave your own truth

And maybe at the end

You will have lived.”

January 32

‘Why this date?'

‘You won’t understand’

says your smile

‘That’s my day, or

will be…,’ you add

with stylish silence.

With him the jazz

doesn’t help,

‘Whaayyy?’ he’s earnest.

‘We all do it,

Mine is a date.’

‘But its never coming!’

‘It always is,

wooling winters

with anticipation

then summers silently

sweltering in disappointment.’

He throws up his hands.

He won’t last long.

‘But you see,’

you tell him,

‘Jan 33 will last forever.’

‘What is forever?

…,’ you miss the rest

then something

you let slip

is not heard either.

Pathetic fallacy?

Clap and snap,

then countless snaps

Snaps, dampening

the clothes she

set out to dry,

she thinks they

don’t mind though.

Another day

The snaps would

have annoyed,

but not today.

They always

mess the doorbell

but today, it’s

a naughty tickle,

‘What a pathetic

laugh’, she giggles .

Its all different,

They would’ve

snaked through

her skin and

sickened her soul

but not today.

‘There is no reason

for most of the

things in life,’

she says,

‘We just invent it.’

So Quiet!

But its too quiet

for sanity

too many words

imprisoned in paper,

too many thoughts

bottled up in a brain,

too many lonely smiles

for solitude,

too much of me and

too much of them

too little of us.

Too much peace

to be at peace.

CHOICE

Caught between

this look and that

this me and that

this word and that

this right and that

between

this star and that

this wish and that

this side and that

this life and that.

WHAT I WANT

A lot it seems.

Much more

than the due,

Perhaps.

‘Just another

nauveau free

इन को ये चाहिए

वो चाहिए

They’ll even want

the sky.’

Yes, I want

Shamelessly.

My morning tea

with soggy biscuits

dipped in the

Rising sun.

And my day

of flies and

gnats free

Walking with me.

Kadi chawal

for lunch

no burgers.

And no need

to look at the

maniacal watch.

Faint music

as the day

cools off,

more tea

some namkeen.

And with the books

All chattering away

and the pen

prancing, we could

cook a story

or two

for dinner.

WALK

In the thicket

I step,

deep into

bushes. Dry

dense green

spotted with

frail fancies.

But that smell

persists

of dreams

and life

in decay.

Right in your lap,

(I am teasing life)

It dares

to linger

right where

you feed,

rear your own,

it sings

its eerie lullaby.

The blossoms

giggle, and the

saplings rustle.

They always have

fun out of

our squabbles.

I search where

It comes from.

My right?

No behind,

Left? No

Above?

Its everywhere.

She reveals

quietly as

she prepares

for her siesta

“among many

of my works

Decay is one

and my

favourite, I say.”

HAVES & HAVE NOTS

Some have

no money

some have

lost it.

Some have

no love

others have

squandered it.

Some have

no peace

others let it die.

But the poorest

of poor

have it all

yet can

neither loose

nor squander

nor kill it

and the richest

Ah! they

are at it

till the end.