poetry

Mess

Love was a mess

A mess we made on the bed

Hair strands, broken nails and

Raindrops and blood

All things now us

Potions creating life are now

Stains on the bed

The empty space that now holds your face

Devoid of expression

A faint smile

Unkempt curls on your head

Wet eyes

And a pink strand between your lips

That belongs to me

Clothes thrown across the room

The mirror covered in mist

Our names written in dancing letters

The air carrying the fragrance

Of all the things that lay beside us now

We could have been anywhere now

In this moment

But we are just here

Making a mess of love

poetry

When I am about to die…

When our house is on fire

And there’s no way to get out

I give up and take a corner

Crawl beside me and recite

Poems of love and longing

Poems written by you and me

When cancer eats me

And doctors tell you

I am counting days down

Sleep beside me

And tell me stories

Tales of urchins and dolphins

Tell me how we met

When I am sinking to death

And there’s no way you can save me

Hold my hand

Sing me songs

Songs of the Lord and life beyond life

Sing me a love song

Or heck! Make up one for us

You see love, I am not afraid of death

I am just afraid of dying alone

poetry

Cats and the moon

We crashed on the mosaic floor on the terrace,
on the night of the pink moon.
It was not late at night just 20:30 hours;
But we were sufficiently intoxicated,
From the party, we snuck out of
To watch the moon.

We traced the moon
until came a dragon, and
He swallowed the moon.
The moon slipped through its stomach to the tail.
The baby elephant held the dragon’s tail,
but he let the moon rise above his head;
But in the end, an evil blanket covered the moon again.

It was a serene summer night,
Nothing moved except the dragon in the sky
And my hair strands due to the occasional breeze.
The dragon left for another moon
As he turned his gaze
and looked at my eyes covered by a netted veil.

“Look at the moon”, I pointed to the sky;
He said, “You are my only moon tonight.”
I held his face and pushed his curls away from his eyes,
His eyes were as cute as buttons on his shirt.
His white shirt with blue dots.
“Hi meeewww”, he smirked,
No one but him knew, that I was still called
Meeewwww.

I was dressed like one,
In a black dress that fit and flared
With black stockings covering the rest
Of my legs.
My cat-eared hairband ended in the netted veil that covered my eyes.
He drew my nose with whiskers,
While I closed my eyes
And giggled like a happy girl,
He held me firm till he was done.
I messed his stache
to look like whiskers and now
I was the Persian
and he was my rogue street cat.

I unbuttoned his shirt,
His shoulders glistened in the moonlight.
I ran my fingers through the dimples
As he held my face to show me the sky
And a translucent dragon swallowed my moon this time,
Then came the mean catfish
To eat my moon again.

My lips reached for his lips
Our kiss was soft and subtle, teenage-ey,
Not much tongue;
Just kisses that taste like
Candies and
Smell like strawberries.
Kisses that feel like
unicorns flying in the night sky.

“Meeeeeeewww” he whispered as he broke away from the kiss
I beamed like a sky lit with a million stars
And his eyes glistened
As his slender manicured fingers ran
Through the center of my face .
This felt like I was back in my hometown
When I was a child,
As the sugar rush flowed to the brain
I felt the same happiness I felt.
As a schoolgirl that
Runs home for summer vacations.

I smother his face with mine,
We both rise
To look around for a while,
Whispering meeeewwww into each other,
As he holds me
Around my waist
And I hold his neatly moisturized neck.
The sea is still at the distance,
The dockyard has a colorful ships
Anchored to the shore.
As I crane from the terrace into the horizon
He holds me from behind.

He unzips the hold of my dress
Goes a long way down,
As goes to sleep the town
The faint sound of the train engine
Adds to the rhythm
As he kisses my neck
And I stand still and watch as time passes us by.
He slides my dress off my shoulders
As he turns me around
Kisses my eyes over the veil
Before he yanks me closer.
Our masks slide through our skin
Until we are just us,
Without sham or pretense.

He holds me close
And I hold him near to my heart
Our hearts beat through the quiet of the night
Tomorrow we’d be him and me.
But tonight we were just two cats making love
Under the moonlight.

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