Wednesday, February 05, 2014

Another woman's breast
the first sign may be
may be not
just a screen.
Benign. All fine.
Walk away disdainful
hope he'll make up find a way
His guilt turns into petty defense
some other pretext
goes away
I hope he'll come
He realises some
but does not warm, feed
calm a coughing soul
or come back like I would
and once, wish he too could
I read, try sleeping but only toss and turn
I burn.
But he, his snare, too much to care.
I pour it all in a poem
bury yet again my hurt
to go feed him on a spurt
although he consumed
another woman's breast.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Night notes
No no
But the best of it rides on the moon
Ah no, but your time's noon
But that's always impossible.
Always too soon. 

Tuesday, January 14, 2014


Last pages. Dear Life.
The dearest ones.
Sounds of her simplicity
Of country words so comforting
Interrupted now by
A blow drier making a crayon clock
Bread butter business
A gong like beating
The night guard's stick
Perhaps - or a mad man
On a rampage
Or midnight construction
Deconstructing souls
Click knocks of the kavi cupboard
Blaring music in the big cars of brash brats
The guard stick chasing them
Soon after, musical goodbyes
From relieved dinner hosts
And intermittently,
This cough,
Crowing croaking choking
The lump in the throat
Struggling to throw itself out
But all the bags of air
Too thick for sweet silence tonight

Thursday, January 02, 2014

The Mentor

I see you
Smiling. At the woman that's me.
At the child you made grow up through tears.
At the writer you made crawl out from the hiding.
At the li'l leader you found and believed in,
When all there was, was a little girl with belief
Today, as you drive, you plug your years out to reality
Your own
As beautiful as you built theirs
Showed them how to perch proud for the flight
Flew yourself with grace in the race too
Left your nest to rest
It did understand — but they in there had to fly for wing-sake too
Fly off if you were too smitten by your skies
You lived loved laughed lost
Treaded the human-superhuman knife edge
Still so beautifully faltering
So sensitive gullible fallen in your greatness
I see you
And in reverence, try not to see through you.

Sunday, September 08, 2013


Stoned. Smoked.
Tring trings at metro station madness
disco lights from the Bangkok mart
a shouting for too much art
faces places their simple stupid smiles
agenda against agenda
colleague against colleague
fallacy after fallacy
and amid it, a Friday plan with two old friends falls in place.
Perhaps some solace.


Four minutes to the train
meanwhile, honkfest
choked on roads, the upper crest
girls on metal benches talk hard to soften up their boys
some fish for gold in their bags - a headphone here, a tablet there
attention please, train to destination Noida is on its way
but that lone star you see beyond will stay
still, far, unconcerned...
twinkling in eternity just as it lay.

Saturday, August 31, 2013

There did come soft rains

Standing on a terrace I stood on
over a long year ago
soft rains breeze umbrella now
relentless roar pour soaked helpless then
The roof that saw patiently ...
the whole of the city, the pity, the jams
and blinding lights and fast trains
and smoke and sick
Saw it with a divine distance
put it in perspective
Gave me peace last night again
the purest, surest most pious kind
an energy so eternal
a stance so magically high
that friend's terrace where I can
always heave a heavenly sigh.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

So pure, so pointless

Now I feel it fading
now I see it rising
inexplicable unreasonable unfair
all it does is impair
but this that show
I don't wanna know
beyond being
so pure, so pointless.