Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Slightly drunk, unimaginably happy
and in love with you, and I am thinking
my life is exactly how it is supposed
to be, sometimes you to have to quit
something familiar to win to bigger battles,
it gets hard but only so that I can overcome it.

Saturday, December 16, 2017

My addictions

My addictions are rationed
in order to stay sane,
you, for instance,
the way I feel surreal
when I am with you,
this crazy explosion in every
part of me when I am with you,
this yearning for coffee
and cigarettes and wine
but mostly you, all at once
or not at all.

Sunday, December 10, 2017

Live the way you wish to

To leave or to stay
has been the question of your existence
All those years away from home
and the rootlessness, all the years of
exile and wandering aimlessly,
And then home again,
this healing, this familiarity,
of finding your feet on this earth
which is yours, the hills that remember
your name and echoes it back to you.
And this love like no other,
this breathing back to life,
this love in a tongue that is yours
and his, the strangeness of it,
this absolute contentment that rarely
happens, but again the rise in your
throat, this restlessness against
being contained, this defiance of
the narrowness of this life,
must leave soon, the heart says,
you must reclaim your life
from the world, this is yours
this is yours this is yours;
Love the way you wish to;
Live the way you wish to.

Monday, December 4, 2017

A metamorphosis

You are taking stock of this year
meticulously, like a loan shark,
counting how you have come so far;
not far enough, not far enough, echoes
the restless churning in your bones,
what have you learnt,
what have you lost.
So much, its as though the child
you were a year ago has dissipated.
What are you now, this temporary
fleeting self, this exciting becoming,
this forming and waning, a metamorphosis
to a golden promise you made to yourself.

Sunday, November 19, 2017

You and I

You and I
should be lovers in some other city,
maybe another country altogether.
We are too happy for them,
we are too much in love,
They call us shameless,
They are repulsed by us,
by the way we look at each other
with desire,
You and I
should be walking in streets
that can hold our love,
it baffles me how I miss you
even when you are sitting beside me,
missing the freedom we enjoyed
so recently, now this constrain,
now this rationing of hours
spent together,
 we are back to hurried kisses
and aching hearts.

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Willing to win

Home found you with your
knees on the floor, a bit broken,
but it has given back what you needed
look how one year can change you
and heal you right back, with scars
to remind you of how hard you fought.
Because home found you and the hills
nurtured you back to life, its air
infused your lungs with love,
look how you are laughing again;
look how you are back on your feet
stronger than ever, willing to win.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

I am already yours

Because you are telling one of your
stories at the far corner of the room
and the crowd fills up around you,
Because I miss you I try not
to let it show; some ancient pride and
outrage against myself for being
so affected by your presence or the
lack of it, as though I am a child who
hadn't learnt to share.
I am on my third glass of wine,
a friend whispers something into my
ear and my head is flung back in
laughter when midway I catch
your eye wandering towards mine,
and you walk across the room to me
and I rise to meet you;
I am already yours.

Sunday, October 8, 2017

Takes time to build up a life

You worry sometimes
that you are missing out;
it is alright to feel that way,
you are only human
and it makes sense to want more.
I know it is hard for you
to put up a brave face as you do,
to feel as though you have landed up
in a world not of your making.
You are aware of your many privileges
and those in which you lack,
shifting between two worlds
you inhabit simultaneously.
All I can tell you for now
is that you will get your fill
of the world and people of all sorts,
you will learn to write like
your life depended on it;
it takes time to build up a life,
it takes time to realise you are
already living the life of your design.

Thursday, October 5, 2017

The Ritual of Love

It's crazy how we fall in love with people
because of the things they say,
the phrases they use, the inflection of
their tone, the way they erupt into
laughter, the way they tell you
about their lives
and you bask in the privilege
of being allowed to trace
the trajectories of their lives.
You are simply knocked out
by how these things matter so much
to you, how they wound up
making their way to your heart,
and out of the blue the world
dazzles you with such beauty, such grace.

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

This is how you change your life

Sometimes you have do it alone,
all the things that matter most.
The journey is lonely,
it wears you down,
a few times you wonder
if this is what you really want.
Wouldn't it be so much easier
to live like everyone else
frolicking under the sun and the stars,
not having a care in the world?
But old ambitions die hard.
You got that one chance you asked for,
This is how you change your life.

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

For all the times you mistook
yourself for ordinary,
its time for you
to make amends.

The sun, the moon, the stars

So you collect life's lessons
and words from strangers,
what you are making from them
you don't quite know.
Sometimes all you want
 is to make it till the next
Saturday, to see him again.
Other times you panic about
THIS life, it frightens you in a
way you can't possibly explain,
it scares you that you might 
eventually resign to domesticity,
to love even, which is not a bad
thing really but you know your
heart has always wanted more;
the sun, the moon, the stars.

Monday, September 18, 2017

Listen to your heart beating

These days I feel I am floating on air;
You have that effect on me.
It's as though this world is somehow
made softer, more meaningful
and maybe for a while I can
keep aside the infernal raging
of my soul. It still feels like
a dream sometimes, and my
feet don't quite seem to touch
the ground and all I want to do
is kiss you and laugh with you
and listen to your heart beating.

Monday, September 11, 2017

It spits you out

You and I thought we got
it all figured out
which city meant what
and how we would spend our
twenties riding the wave of
boundless creativity and sheer will.
In no time it sucks you in
but one day it spits you out.

Thursday, September 7, 2017

My heart is tied up in knots

We are not good at loving
from long distances,
it wrecks us I think,
we are always hungry
for kisses and reassurances.
When you are away
you find something to
hold against me,
Maybe its the years between us
which we never talk about
or our way of loving which
is so different from each other.
My heart is tied up in knots;
must you make me feel this way?

Thursday, August 31, 2017

Irretrievably mine

Like a bee sting
it finds you out of nowhere,
right underneath your skin,
crawling through the rest
of your body, treacherously
spreading like slow poison.
And she is beautiful, you think,
far more than you are,
then you immediately hate
yourself for falling to this level
of pettiness but you are there
and you don't know how to get back.
You had been clearly jolted
seeing her wear the shirt with his
name on it, as though he was hers,
but he is mine, you think, something
you haven't consciously claimed
before, saying over and over again,
mine, mine, irretrievably mine,
like colonists who discover ancient
civilizations but proclaim it the
new world and claim it for themselves,
and then you can't help wondering
about the women who came before
you, one he had been engaged to, another
he had been willing to shift to
another country for, details you hadn't
particularly cared to find out before.
You were never like this,
never so territorial in your claims,
never so bereft of control in your love,
as though the brakes have failed
and you are rushing along with feelings
you can't contain, you didn't intend;
a fever that shows no signs of subsiding.
He wooed you, didn't he, that you
hadn't even realised you were falling
for him, and he told you he loved
you over and over till you felt quite
overwhelmed, so assured in his love
for you and even when he had been upset
that time you mentioned your past love,
you hadn't understood,
but now you do,
now in the most chest tightening way
possible, you do.

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Gift a poem to yourself

Don't let them get to you,
it's a trap they lay out,
you go out fighting dahling
if you have to,
you don't let them get to you
with their snide remarks,
the cautious dreams they have for you,
the way they talk to you as though
they know better than you
about your own life,
you are no longer a child.
I know it gets to you sometimes,
you are only human after all,
some days like today
you feel so lonely you don't
remember what love feels like
but it brings you clarity,
so you can be grateful for that,
it cuts away the unnecessary.
You are meant for so much more
you can't live your life
like a bird in a cage,
satisfied with the little crumbs
they can give to you.
it's not enough, it never was.
This is your life, dahling,
you can't settle for good enough
you can't settle for love;
because the greatest love story
is the one you have with yourself

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Swallowing gratitude

You are swallowing
a gulp of gratitude
for so much which
you take for granted,
take a moment to breathe
and look at the world around you,
look how far you have come
from the frightened child
you once were, losses
and mistakes have come and
gone but your head and heart
are intact, there are people
who love you, and sleep
comes easy, your dreams are
within your grasp, you are
full of boundless energy,
there is so much to be grateful for,

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Here is a prayer

Here is a prayer
that we wouldn't leave scars behind
when we leave, that my life
would hold its own.
Here is a prayer-
look out for me
when things are beyond my control.
May fortune favour me
in my endeavours,
May I be guided home to
where my heart belongs.

Saturday, August 19, 2017

I go over it

I go over it like the way the wind
caress the top of trees, when we
existed in a time of our own making,
the way you kissed me over and over
and I didn't want to leave as planned.
We greeted each other awkwardly,
initially alarmed by the easy propinquity
of you and I;
no more longing for you
in coffee shops and car rides,
you and I
finally on our own,
finally more than a few stolen hours
of holding hands and hurried kisses.
I go over how your skin felt on mine
as you made love to me
And how easy it was to fall asleep
in your arms, to wake up next to you,
how four days changed everything.

Thursday, August 17, 2017

Which star did you fall from?

I remember you like a dream
Bathed in that strange unreal light,
waking you up with a kiss,
my heart aching with happiness.
I don't even remember how we got here
in the past few months, from strangers
to lovers, catching each other's glances
from far corners of a room, heavy
with the knowledge of your presence.
And life's mundane routine suddenly begin
to acquire a special significance, as though
walking, eating, sleeping, laughing
were something to look forward to.  
Which star did you fall from?

Friday, August 4, 2017

See now

See now,
how does no word
from you make me feel
slightly lost?
I am yet to figure out
the pattern of your thoughts,
there is so much I will never know.
Why have you never fully invested
your heart on someone?
Half-of-our-hearts always.
All I know is that I have begun
to see how I could fall in love,
even in a place like this.
But here I am,
twice in a fortnight.
wondering if I should keep you
or let you go.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Life in your hands

When Life comes bearing
unexpected gifts, take it.
It took a while but as promised,
you will do marvelous.
And suddenly after the wait
and the toil, the world is opening
its arms wide open for you.
You are not to take it
for granted, you are taking
back your life in your hands.
Your time has come.

Monday, July 24, 2017

Look how you are breaking my heart

Look how you are
breaking my heart,
Look how you have got me
all muddled up inside.
And what coincidence to have
"Lovers in Paris" start
playing from my playlist;
a sign from the universe
to let you go or to keep you?
I have to give it to you
for doing it in the most
delicious way.

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

What is a girl to do?

A sickness pervades my being,
I can feel your absence spreading
through my blood, slowly, pain-
stakingly meandering its way
to my heart, even the air that I
breathe hangs heavy and contorted,
suspended in its wake because
you are not around, this sickness
wounds its way to my wrist which
you last held, your touch is
imprinted in my bones.
I can trace the onset of this illness
from my lips which you last kissed,
its aftertaste still strong in my mouth.
My heart is full of you,
what is a girl to do?

Look how we have disassembled each other

I don't want to love you
if I can't be with you.
It's as simple and complicated
as that, because I don't want to
carry this ache around with me;
this irrational illogical desire
for you, I don't want you
just as forbidden fruit,
I want you accessible, real.
You say you love me,
and I am in love with you
but is that the same thing?
But to say it would be
sending it out to the universe,
to say it would be making
a promise and I don't want to
make promises I can't keep.
How did we get here, you and I,
so soon so fast, would it last?
Look how we have utterly
disassembled each other.

Monday, July 17, 2017

Look what you have done.

How did we get here,
you and I?
You, with your infectious laughter,
carrying an air of being at home
anywhere in the world.
And I, who smiled for the first
time when we met after
 a year of sulking around.
You, with your terrible jokes
that make my stomach ache,
the easiness with which you
hold my attention, my hand, my mouth
And I, with my acute awkwardness
at anything to do with feelings,
and my obsessive desire to kiss you,
as persistant as a toothache.
So there I was
being perfectly miserable but now
you have changed everything.
Because here I am,
missing you and longing for you;
not even a bearable once-in-a-while
thing, but this awful reminder
of your absence, like a sickness.
Look what you have done.

Sunday, July 16, 2017

A thing of wonder

It feels strange to be so utterly
happy and contended when I am
with you, as though the world has
been set right somehow, stranger still
because we both know it isn't so, not
in this place we call home shimmering
with discontent and misgivings.
But I forget that when I am with you,
I can only think of your hands
holding mine and how it falls
perfectly into place, and that I want
to kiss you everytime I look at you,
sometimes I don't even care if
people are looking or judging.
When I am with you, I could
sit for hours and we don't even have
to be talking and I would still
be smiling to myself counting the
black dots on your hands, and suddenly
the most mundane matters of existence
would become a thing of wonder.

Friday, July 7, 2017

When life tells you it is time.

You were greedy and you wanted
all of it, all at once;
In the height of your giddy youth
you forgot the element of struggle,
Your foolish heart thought
it would be satiated with
just your ability to dream it up,
you thought life would just knock
at your door and introduce itself,
now you know better,
now you know the life you want
takes time, it doesn't call you back
in the first instance, it makes you  wait,
it makes you despair, it breaks your
swollen heart a few times, it makes
promises it can't keep, it wears you down
But imagine this- you wake up
one early winter morning, life
brings you newspaper and a cup
of chai, life gives you a long long kiss
and tells you it is time.

Is this the life you wanted?

Always this reticent heart
trying to retreat into itself,
Always this doubt when it comes
to loving, being loved.
Life is happening too fast,
too soon, how do you get a
grip on it? You are accustomed
to life moving slowly, all you
wanted was to write and have
a house by the sea; but what 
I have now holding in the palm
of my hands, this terrible beauty
you and I, this bewildering
 transition in my life and 
here I am asking myself-
Is this the life you wanted?

Thursday, July 6, 2017

Light- headedness

You are getting to me, I can tell
 because I can barely stop thinking 
about kissing you, barely contain
this light-headedness I feel around 
you, and I am thinking when
 will I get to see you next, 
and I am thinking even though
 I burnt my tongue drinking coffee
 due to sheer giddiness the last time
I was with you, it is as though 
I am back to being a sixteen 
year old and this is happening
for the first time.

Sunday, July 2, 2017


Our goodbyes aren't punctuated
 by hugs, but with an awkward 
detachment hanging midair;
You, with caution,
I, with propriety in mind.
because the air between us feels
so tense that I am conscious
of even the slightest of movements.
I laughed so much last night
when you mentioned that
I might be averse to hugs
because you don't know the half of it
and I am not sure I am willing 
to tell you; and if I sent you a poem
would it confuse you further?

Saturday, June 24, 2017

Poems as prayers

Halfway through the year
and how you have changed since,
here you are now
offering poems as prayers.

Thursday, June 22, 2017

All I want

All I want is to make it
till the end of this year
without breaking down.
A year in this place is getting to me
it's turning my blood toxic and
my heart all twisted up.
How awful it would be to die
not having lived much,
it makes me sick just thinking of it
I long so much for freedom,
after all these years still struggling
for it, after all these years dreaming
the same dream.
What a dread life is without
the freedom to love, to feel,
to make mistakes.
What a relief it would be
to be holding a cup of coffee
while sitting across from you.

Friday, June 9, 2017

Meeting at the coffeeshop

Our laughter lingers in the coffeeshop;
I hardly went to one before you,
Our voices mingling with so many others;
Strangers who are now
serving slices of themselves
to the human warmth of living
before death gets us all.
How absurd, how insignificant
this day might seem in retrospect
that you would drive down all
the way just to see me for the few minutes
that I could give you.
And how our lives have been rearranging
 themselves this whole time
based on random chances;
a word, a message, a smile.

Thursday, June 1, 2017

Hoping that writing would hold me

My swollen heart is aching again,
it loves too easily, it sinks all too often
Sometimes life feels like a minefield
of anxieties and I think I stepped on one day.
I am always waiting for my life to start 
Today it felt like its a long time coming
And anxiety, my old friend, came back again
to sit beside me, shaking me out of
the lull of everyday life. 
Old fears came to haunt me again,
what if life is but endless hours
of dreadful mediocre conversations,
and fullfillment of duties,
mechanical loving and working?
Whatever happened to great passion?
And am I truly living life on my own terms?
Weaknesses stepped out,
looking to hold me hostage,
So here I am,
asking for small miracles,
Hoping that writing would hold me
so that I won't break into
tiny little pieces I can't glue back.
So here I am,
hoping for the strength to return
and keep me company
while I wait for the despair to subside.

Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Time doesn't stop for us

Time doesn't stop for us,
it accelerates and swirls
We maintain an unbearable distance
between us, for propriety's sake.
We still catch each other's glances
and smile from across the room,
always heavily aware of each other's presence
even when we aren't in each other's
line of sight; the secrets that lovers keep
And whenever evening draws to a close
my heart sinks like that time in school
when Sunday outings used to end
and there was the unmistakable
dread of the drudgery of Monday.
Our hearts sink in perfect congruity.
And you ask me if I am alright,
like you always do.
I leave with a whispered goodbye,
my heart breaking as I turn away from you;
no goodbye hugs and kisses
 for lovers like you and I.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017


The first flush of desire
is akin to a toothache,
you are constantly running
your tongue over it,
fixated on the acute pain.

Monday, May 22, 2017

Humming of your heart

What we want from lovers
is their stories, all the details
that make up the person we yearn for
We want to know the first time
you scalded your knee, the first
girl you fell in love with,
even that distance you keep with
your father, and were you loved?
We want to know
how you appeared in my life
and changed everything even by
the most mundane of encounters.

We want to know the feel of your skin,
already our hands lying in proximity on the table
before us seem to shoot electric currents,
we want to know how it feels like
to sink into your world and then swim up again,
we want so much all at once,
it's as though we set ourselves
up for disappointment,
Sometimes we think the whole damn world
is contained in a person,
in lovers who aren't yet lovers,
What we want is as incoherent as this
poem, full of fits and starts,
of restless waiting and longing,
the whole world suspended in the wake of
the whirlwind of whatever-this-insanity-is.
And what I wouldn't give to be beside you again,
on the road to somewhere, nowhere,
leaning against you, listening to
the humming of your heart.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Grief is intimate

Grief is intimate in a way
joy can never be,
It chokes you out of breath,
It carves rivulets of hollow-nothings
in the cavity of your chest
By now you know one can
grieve for oneself, selfishly, childishly.
Grief lurks in waits for you
when you are hanging onto\a mugful
of tea one uneventful afternoon
to take possession of you,
to make you realise the gravity
of your loss.
Even that rage you carried
with you all of last year,
it dissipated like everything else,
lost, irretrievably lost,
shedding parts of you
that you thought you couldn't
possibly live without.
It's as though the world has finally
opened its gates for you
and you are hurtling
in a pace and direction
you can't quite control.
And those mental images that
you still hold on to somehow,
Childhood relics that haunt you,
asking you if you really found
the great adventure you were looking for?


Saturday, May 13, 2017


We started with awkward smiles
now we are asking about dream houses,
City or countryside?
Collecting intimate details
as lovers do(but we aren't lovers,
not yet)
In this little town, admidst rumblings
of history and misfortunes,
we have somehow found 
in each other
a reason to stay.
I could love you
But you are settled in your ways,
I am still forming myself
And haven't really decided on
the life I want.
So I tell myself
not to be swept away
by the storm of your arrival.
I could love you
but these are years of my life
when I will always put myself first.
You tell me that you haven't felt such
desperation to come home as you do now,
But home is not where
I imagined I would be in my twenties.
I still let myself have an alternate 
storyline though,
one in which we could have ended up 
together and I wouldn't be so worried
about rushing into a storm
I can't control.
the one in which
you asked me to stay
and I did.

and I did.

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Oh it does

Maybe that is how life chooses you,
when you are reading a book
wondering how to turn your life around
And it does,
Oh it does.

Sunday, May 7, 2017


You are always going away
Somewhere, inhabiting a life
I know so little of,
And I am always retreating a little 
into myself.
I could say a number of things
For instance, I have often wondered 
how it would be like to kiss you,
but there is so much at stake.
We are always surrounded by friends,
a precaution you have made a point to take
at a place like ours;
small-town stifling atmosphere
where people talk
and anything can be a fodder for scandals.
I long for you even as I sit next 
to you in the car,
the air tense with our mutual desire;
I wonder if other people can sense it too.
Some days you give me hints,
But for all your years, you seem
As bewildered and confused
On where we stand.
By now it has grown into a fever,
consuming me like cancer,
By now you send me notes,
all along your travels,
probably missing me a little.

Friday, May 5, 2017

What remains of us

What remains of us?
Not the unaccounted-for-love,
Not the devastating fights
Just plain wonder
at how it had overwhelmed us,
Struck us like a disease in the beginning
and left us so drained in the end.
I am no longer searching for you
in other people
and that is something.
What remains of us;
a worn-out pair of shoes,
a few drops of perfume,
and something that could pass for kindness.

Monday, April 3, 2017

Claim on a story

You've been thinking of claims that people make
The love for a land which is not even theirs
You wonder how that came about
this righteousness, this strong emotional
rumbling you hear everyday,
You claim nothing, not even your dreams
You've been thinking of love
and home, that after all these years
of being scared out of your wits
to come back, you are really back
and it hasn't scared the hell out of you,
not yet; a part of you wants to stay here,
be a part of a story the way you would never
truly be a part of anywhere else,

Sunday, April 2, 2017

What love is this that feels like breathing

Because I should have written on the day
you left, now I am already used to your departure,
a dull ache has settled by now, the rawness
has lost its edge.
I can see our lives stretched out till where
 the ends of the earth meet the sky.
We are little more than children still,
finding happiness in propinquity to each other.
What love is this that feels like breathing?

Sunday, March 12, 2017

The change of language

Somewhere between last month and now
You are grappling with a change of language
and with it the attendant feelings
of how could you have ever loved
in any other language, and how sweet
and melancholic everything seems now,
And how easily you love
the old which is now new
and how when he asked you
to come for the thabal, you had
smiled and said you would. 

Saturday, February 25, 2017

You need to get out of here

You need to get out of here
before you get too comfortable,
already you have reverted to your
old tongue and it has embraced
you with open arms,
the prodigal daughter that you are.
Already you are drowning in
the sweet dullness of this
place which keeps no time,
It will engulf you whole
if you stay too long, you will forget
the days, the months and years,
Do not give your heart to this
place because it doesn't keep
its promises, it will offer you
so much and take it all away.
Already you have begun to love
the rhythm, already lulled into
a love as ancient as the hills.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Not even a little

Yabane Adum you say,
That's how you learn languages,
I think, from lovers.
Though you aren't mine
but another's.
Hayengdi emannabagi luhogba ama lei
Anything mundane inflected with your voice
registers as though a poem
over which I could weep.
You are not mine to claim,
I tell myself
You do not see me
 the way I see you,
Manakta leiragasu henna thapchaba
But we are singing songs over coffee and tea
Koina paiba chekla ni
This is madness, I know,
this soaring and sinking of the heart,
this licking of wounds, this thwarted affection,
this lingering sensation that I cannot get rid of
and the unfairness of it
that you don't think of me at all,
not even a little.

Monday, February 20, 2017

Atleast let me forget you

Don't show up like this
with the smile in your eyes,
and your big heart that envelops all.
Don't ask me for anything,
because I would inevitably say yes
to the words rolling off your tongue
and I suddenly see how it works,
how our language is supposed to be used.
I know I am not the one for you,
your eyes look for someone else,
your poems dripping with love for her,
But suddenly after all these years,
I have found you, a reason for staying.
Wouldn't you one day wake up
from a dream and see me in a new light?
Wouldn't you one day long for me
and write me a love poem?
I write this partly as a spell,
partly to exorcise you,
Because if you are never mine,
atleast let me forget you.

Saturday, February 11, 2017

How you brush past these lives,
none of which you fully owned,
just watched longingly from afar,
and at times like today you feel it so close
you could reach out and touch it,
and love like a cancer running its course,
Maybe not even love, just a boy
and his smile, and because you don't 
know him at all, he is everything
you never had, and how would
 you hold this life if you got it?

Saturday, January 28, 2017

Lets never go back

Looking at you I think maybe I could
even have a life here, finally stop running,
Because I see you now with that
smile in your eyes, and I think we
could have the whole world.
All these years we lived across the road
from each other and never met;
even then we were lost in other people.
I read your poems and I think I missed
out so much, would you catch me up?
What life separates us, what literature
brings us closer, maybe you will
never know because you never asked.
But we are on the road now, the
evening light frames you as though
you were in a movie, smoking a cigarette,
And I am thinking, lets never go back.

Friday, January 20, 2017

And how incredible is that?

There are no stars tonight. the cold
has enveloped the world you know
The world shapes itself back,
it creaks, its breaks and you suffer too
You are halfway between heaven and hell,
How do you know which way to go?
Yesterday you heard a Simon and Garfunkle song
in a movie, today you looked back a little
to the past few years,
in the evening something gripped you,
a feeling of wonderment at your own life,
so insignificant but still your very own,
and how there have been times when you
have despaired, but somehow you got here,
a little bruised but otherwise intact,
and how incredible is that?

Monday, January 16, 2017

The perennial question

The question you asked me,
the perennial question really,
probably asked by millions of people
who left behind the home they grew up in
But I haven't left my home, not yet,
merely found myself in a country
that doesn't belong to me.
So how do you identify yourself?
Is there a dissonance?
For that I would have to trace myself
all the way back to the summit of Koubru
where we once dwelled,
because everything else was a vast
expanse of water, when the water retreated
we stepped into newly formed land,
leaving behind our abode in the clouds;
and then the oft-repeated story, sung
as songs, the filling of the swamps,
the clearing of the woods, the sowing
of the seeds, of Gods and their mortal lovers,
a love that didn't last.
But facts are scarce and far-between,
I make myself up as I go, string bits
and pieces of stories together,
One in the long line of the witches
that elude, breaking down the old
with our laughter, creating anew
with spells wistfully whispered.

Sunday, January 15, 2017

Its been a while so first there is the
awkward laughter to get past, then ofcourse
the relief at the familiarity, the filling up
of the lost years, like sand slipping through
the fingers, and the disbelief in your voice
that my life did not mirror yours,
a guarded distance now, a fractured smile;
you had been in love only
with the idea of me anyway.

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

The art of leaving

The wintry winds have brought with it
 the ancient lores Abok-Ahanbi would tell you
 to ease you to sleep
The story of the seven wise men of yore
Who shapeshifted into birds and flew away
When the king gave the decree
 To burn all our ancient books,
There is an art to leaving,you are thinking,
Because sometimes that is all there is left to do
Because partly hardly wildly
you are still looking for a great adventure
 to set out to and in your heart of hearts,
 in your dream of dreams,
you know this is not where the story ends
So you leave with a spell whispered
Because wild hearts can never be tamed,
Only loved, only craved.

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

How you still read my words
the way I want to be read
We got a lot of things wrong,
but this strangely stayed
And even though years and kindness
separate us now, I am always
so touched when you tell me so,
Always tell me so.

Because partly partly partly...

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Sharing a book with you, courtesy Frank O’Hara
 who must be quite mad at me for borrowing
 his opening lines ever so often,  is more fun
than going through a whirlwind of parties and after-parties,
partly because we had written similar
dedications to each other, partly because
at my age, which is not all much really but I do feel quite old
but not too wise, I have realised how precious
female friendships are, the ones premised on
“saving the world” if you will, one person at a time,
one book at a time,  .
At this stage of my life when I seem to have outgrown most
Of my friends, I am so glad we are exchanging notes
On our lives, the way I used to when I was younger
and had a best friend who I have now seem 
to have lost to time and distance.  
And I would rather share this Delhi winter afternoon
having  a conversation with you, flitting from one topic to another,
to keep rolling the wheel of discourse is the endeavour.
By now we are giddy on wine and ideas, 
and planning backpacking trips through Europe(a cliche?),
also terribly inspired that you have taken up painting again.
And here we are, taking a respite from our newly adult lives,
faltering, bruised but laughing till our stomachs ache.
Because not every poem needs to be a love poem
Nor every muse a paramour.