poetry

We Dysfunction.

How comforting it must be love 

To grow old with each other 

Watch the sunset together, 

But but but lover, it’s not for us 

We dysfunction too much 

Play with the fire and dance with the stars 

We drink till dawn 

And we jab our arms with magic potions 

We walk on the edge 

Skip the ropes between human and divine 

Divine and the devil 

The palmist says I will live to 80

And I laugh nervously 

Wait what I say 

I see my end at forty-eight 

What will I do all that life I ask him 

He says I will be famous 

In the hall of fame 

I will move to Europe 

And that’s when I start wondering 

Where’d you be 

Watching sunsets with me

Or just being my sunset 

No love growing old together is not for us 

For we dysfunction too much 

But wherever we are 

We will laugh at the same sunset 

Telling anyone who will listen 

When people were too timid to get wet 

We danced in the storms 

No, we weren’t afraid to love 

With all we had 

They will say we dysfunctioned my friend 

But at least we will be remembered

For a long time to come 

It might be comforting to grow old with each other 

But then, when have we ever stayed in our comfort zones. 

poetry

Maps

The only map I follow 

is the one I draw on his body mindlessly 

As he wonders ‘why him’

‘Why do you love me?’ he persists and at time pesters 

‘Shhh… don’t interrupt a cartographer,’ I say 

As I move my fingers from the two points that begin 

just below his left ear 

On his vampire skin 

And go downwards 

On four moles spread across his chest 

Like the Big Dipper formation in the night sky 

Where the North Star at the lower end  leads the way 

To another constellation 

‘Where does the map lead?’ He asks 

‘To wonderland,’ I say 

‘Bullshit! What you want is just sex,’ he laments 

‘Sex is easy,’ I tell him as we lock eyes 

‘I am trying a pattern unlock,’ I say 

‘Why me?’ He persists 

I give him no answer 

 

Maybe it’s like loving the stars 

Distant, sparkling balls of fire 

In the night sky 

And just wishing upon them 

To love you back.

poetry

For sale: My Engineering Degree, rarely used, in mint condition

I haven’t fiercely hated or feared anything
more than I did engineering
It was an absolute nightmare, every part of it
I love science, math
But, on the first day, it hit me
It wasn’t me
Not what I was meant to do
Every day was a slug
They dumped Laplace and Fourier
And all I wanted is a hint of Shakespeare and some Wordsworth
If that wasn’t enough
I was unintentionally infamous
Scandalous
Sleepless
Depressed and anxious
Then came the second year
Good Lord, and did it get worse
Most memorized every numeral, every circuit, all pluses
all negatives
Laplace and my relationship was a mess
That bugger was just possessive
and obsessed with transformations
He suspected me of cheating on him with Sidney Sheldon
I lost a total of 4 subjects that year
Every time I opened my books, my brain cells took a vacation
Fifty-one IC circuit diagrams
The same teacher who thought I conspired against her
I diddddddddinnnnnttt
The third year, my grades dropped
But life got better,
As usual, another antagonist arrived in the form of a teacher
He wanted to put an end to my ‘smart-assery.’
‘All she knows is good English,’ he lamented
But sir, t’was the truth
And in the final year, to everyone’s surprise, I graduated
Never fucking again,
No sir, I don’t know the noise transformer makes.
I don’t know what oil goes into it
try Olive or coconut
And let me know how goes.
And when it is your turn,
DON’T FORCE MACHINES ON A GIRL WHO LOVES BOOKS!

poetry

Karen, Come Back Home.

You were seventeen when I first saw you
Was it you, all seems like a dream now –
Karen
Your eyes glittered like the cat eye crystal
Laughing like the wind chimes
So many pictures of you around,
I still find the last one in the room on the first floor
Looking at you, I turn to the door
As if you will walk through the gate and
I’ll watch you through the second window on the left

All the boys in the town
Wanted you as the one Karen
Your face radiated the sun
That evening you were the most exceptional marigold
fresh from the garden

When I was seventeen
You were gone
Gone without a trace
You left no trail, no breadcrumbs
No number to call, no email
I have been looking for you
For eleven years now Karen
I looked for you everywhere
On Facebook, on grams, I asked your friends
but they don’t know either

I wonder if we ever meet, would that make you happy
Or you’d walk right through me
Your photo frame now rests along with other junkets and trinkets
Li’l souvenirs and little jewelry pieces
In the dusty corner of my childhood house
Where have you been, where are you going,

Are you hitched now
Are you still a dream.
On some mornings, I wait for the call
Saying you’d be home in the evening
And I say to myself
‘It’s time now, come back home Karen.’