poetry

Once upon a time in Mumbai …

Every morning
He walked past her,
Watering Tulsi outside on the balcony
A young man,
Curly haired, long face, wore shoes
With denim jacket and white pants
With his bullet
Rose colored lens
He lived in the 70s while we walked into 90s
She was a woman in 30s she looked like
she just stepped into 20s
Her modest sarees clad body
Don’t let that fool you
Until you see her Kohl lined eyes
Or till you see her through his sight

He’d park his bike, at a perfect angle
To get a second glance
Of her face
She looked at him whenever he didn’t
But somewhere both waited for
The morning
For that one moment of scandal
In their otherwise sober life

She turns left,
He changes his side to the right
Every night
The restlessness, the weird pull
The tension of the summer rain
Looming over humid skies
Forbidden looks so tempting
Through their eyes
Her husband paid her attention
Now in money, and
Somedays when he wanted a child
He was a single soul
Vagabond, shy, women found him attractive
But he was just a grown child

Every sunrise
Bought them together
As he passed by, her body came alive
Some electric forces pulled them together
As she climbed her stairs
And he was running down
And they almost crashed into each other
She smiled
He was sly
Her husband walked past them
As if he was never alive
With her

Straightens her saree
As he flicks his curls
He descends over her
As she steps down
Probably, a long down from
What defines her

He pins her to the wall,
At the corner of the spiral staircase
It was a rainy morning
Surprise thunderstorms rocked the earth
While he placed his hand beside her head
And with the other
He roved o’er his neck
She traced her fingers on his lips
Her soft, firm movements
She made music on them

The young boy could take no more
He wasn’t ever touched this way
No one ever felt him away
He proceeded closer with his eyes
Rolled to the sky
He covered his mouth
As he looked at her for a while
He flicked his hand through the end
Of her face
Way down, swirling over her neck
And she closed her eyes
Her kohl kept him awake
He’d never sleep again

He kissed her hand
She kissed her hand
Lips fought them to reach each other
But her beautiful hand
Was now damp
From the leaky roof, droplets from the rain
Hit her forehead and slipped down
He traced them on her nose
When they reached her lips
Her hand came off
And they kissed
While his nails etched her waist

Her saree slipped through the shoulder
He placed his hand in between
The rain poured like
An unexpected stranger
Droplets trickled down her face
Quenching then
All those thirst filled nights
Sleepless touching themselves
Her touch felt his fire
His feel was ice
As they were about to burn in desire

Her toddler,
Called her out,
She freed herself from his hold
And returned home
While he walked into the rain
And rode his bike

Monsoons were just beginning.

The photo was used from Pinterest.com

poetry

The best thing

The best thing to do at this moment
Is to place one word after another
Bead them together
Wishing it’d make us feel better
When it’s done
As if these words give birth
A new lease of life

The best thing to do at this moment
Is to let you go
So you may one day find your
Way back to me

The best thing to do at this moment
Is choose my words
Intricately like picking beads of different
Sizes and colours
To weave a necklace
As if the necklace either adds to my life
Or just chokes me to death

The best thing to do at this moment
Is to let you go
So you may one day find your
Way back to me

The best thing to do at this moment
Is to hope that you really buy
These words
That stem like mini explosives from the
Root of my throat
As a parting gift.
Hoping this is not a goodbye
At least not yet.

The best thing to do at this moment
Is to let you go
So you may one day find your
Way back to me

poetry

Sid

My son Sid

His Thomas kept falling in the ditch

O’er and o’er and o’er again

He wakes me up at 6

“Mama, Thomas fell in the ditch”

He says no good morning

No good night, no good day

Just Thomas falling in the ditch

He screams at my every touch, like

His body has third degree burns

My child, mine but not yet

He holds his Thomas engine and runs

Around the house

Whole day, in circles

Like my relationship with him

For all the vocabulary he’d inherited from me

All he retains:

“Thomas fell in the ditch”

I wish I could save Thomas

For once,

But I guess, Thomas has to keep falling

In the same ditch

At least it makes Sid happy

poetry

We pour together tonight

 

Between these moments of solitude

You blow smoke out of the window,

I paint

And you self-destruct

In the same space.

Each wants the other to leave

But no one moves,

Lost in tune

You move,

and paint your hand across my face

through the center of my bosom

Parting my feet

And burying your mind between my soul

There you dance,

As I groove

Your words make their way all the way up

to my mind

Then the sultry weather reeks

of an unprecedented storm

I see grey and shades of blue

Like love

slips through cracks

of our existence

Your fingers slide through mine

The warmer breeze cools down

Against intricate parts of my soul

You wander deep inside,

And you rush out,

Do my depths scare you, oh my love?

You loiter around

And night brings the unruly heat down

Down to ice

But a sudden frost bite

Makes me shriek, and the lightning strikes

The sky and I,

We pour together tonight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

poetry

We sleep…

Inspired by Palestine Refugee camp

We sleep in tents
Inside the camps across the line
That separates nations
His teeth dig into my skin
As if barbed wire pierce through the trespassers,
My screams are muffled
He holds my mouth with his wet palms
To hush up
Not to draw too much attention

Sand flies across the land
Border lights glow as if stars in the night
Dewdrops trickle down our faces
My lover; runs his nails
Up,
From my toe
through my spine
Tugging my strands
Not so soft anymore
My hair has weathered storms

Gunshots are heard at a distance
More blood tonight
My land, their land,
A little child has no land

He pulls my clothes away from my body
And pulls down his pants
Every gunshot makes my body shiver
He holds me close
I can hear
Chaos, a mother weeps
As he tastes my quivering lips,
My broken lips now bleed
From the military strikes

A silhouette of the crowd are protesting the refuge
The refuge is a prison now
Oh, the irony
The protectors are the real destroyers
The world watches as we burn
In the fire that consumes us

My shivering palms run through his chest
I grab his skin and dig my nails into his rib
Blood forms a teardrop
As he moans
Wriggles in pain
He holds me so close
So firm

More people leave us tonight
They become stars
But we no longer weep
For our hearts are frozen numb

He holds my neck
As he intrudes my sanctity
He enters the inner sanctum
The temple doors are open
The wind makes flame flicker
As people bicker
On both sides of the fence

Our Gods are the same,
But do they even care
Intruding, invading our spaces
The cruel wind slaps my breasts

I sigh
More gunshots
More cries
They are getting closer

Flying machines unleash the fury
Lighting up the night sky
As if it’s a festival of spirits
Leaving our world

He chokes me
And looks into my eyes
His eyes pointed towards the sky
Tears rush down
Pierce our cheeks like ice
When the world around is destroyed
Tonight we create life.

And then they come for us.

 

poetry

Love

How do I describe thee?

Do you exist beyond the letters that make you?

Are you the first light of a new day?

Are you a blooming rose?

Or you as soft as newborn’s nose?

Are you the gentle breeze on a gloomy noon?

Do you come on time or sometimes too soon?

Are you the waves that lash that shore?

Are you the lilac sky going against the orange hues of the sunset?

Are you as beautiful as a pure smile?

Are you two souls that wait a while

before they separate?

Are you the moon that stares at the dark side of the earth?

Are you a star that glitters through the night.

Are you the last goodbye

Or the first sight?

Do you exist after we tear apart

Or did you exist between us as one

Are you a faint hope in the bad world?

Or are you our only chance at life?

Who are you?

poetry

I love you

Words flow out of my mouth

Like a waterfall

In the spring

Always in Abundance

As water droplets of stories

But when I looked right at him

I could feel the waterfall recede

And choke my throat

My tongue took refuge underneath my lower teeth

As if they were both conflicted

If those words should ever flow out

I cleared my throat

And fumbled with meaningless conversations

Until my brain and my heart

Asked me to throw it up

And I said “I like you”

“I like like you”, I blurted out

And my feet began to sprint

Out of his sight

God knows for how long we ran

Me, and my mouth

Before it took a deep breath

And then,  it slowly whispered

“I love you”