Nocturnal Blues


Oh, The Bringer of Bad News!

I'd turned a blind eye to you
or so I thought
I had my back on you, for sure
my ears were shut too
my body wrapped in an invisible cloak
of ignorance
that they said is bliss
my thoughts glued in deep silence
my fears galvanized in masks of strength
and a smile
that should never go amiss

The Bringer of Bad News, still
you managed to get through me
caught a person, paranoid
with all her defenses up
a skeptic, by default
expecting the worst


you caught her flicker of hope
while she was unawares


Now The Entropy of the Neutralized Moon
is feeling betrayed
by her own sticky Turbulence


nothing is making sense 

Binary Piya


To Be 
OR
Not To Be

Out there and overwhelming
you

To Be 
OR
Not To Be

In here and anticipating
you

Just want you to

Feel free 
To Be
Tied to me

Instead you be

Too Tied 
To Feel Free 
with me

Much is the 
Simple Complexity
or 
Such is the
Complex Simplicity

of being loved by
and of loving
you 

My Unsung Laments


i had a 

voluntary

solitary

arbitrary

temporary

pulmonary

lament 

maybe

i wanted to cry 

i got

automatic

systematic

mono-chromatic

un-diplomatic  

gynmastic

feelings

last night

i wanted to fight

like a 

waterproof

shockproof

scratch-proof

shatterproof

matter proof

fool

i heard 

myself

tell

yell

swell

dwell

eventually

cancel

all my 

unsung laments

today

to hear a song in your voice

i wanted to love

There is a wall
built down 
the memory lane

It is guarded well
with spokes
and grills

Cemented even
to push me around
the other way

Behind it
I don't clearly remember
But is something fierce

Like a tidal wave
That can break in any day
and take me away

Could it drown me?
or 
Could it teach me

How to swim.

Self Life or Shelf Life

I used to be enraptured 
Often and how

Ruptured.
Is all I am right now

Have you ever tried fitting magic
into a long lasting logic?

Nature
I'm told
Has no added preservatives.

Lemon Chilly Butter Honey


Lemon Chilly Butter Honey

Loving you is like tasting life
And I miss you each day
With a growing appetite

In a day is a year
In a moment, months

Loving you is like tasting time
So life always comes to me
as a pickle or wine

An Endless Wait

The days are quiet
Nights are quieter
I have been strong
All along
Through this quietness

I keep craving for some noise
To distract me
Because it is quite scary
Yet I’ve myself come to resist
Some of these noises

The whispering wind,
The crickets, far away, hidden
The neighbour, whose laughter, never ends
The sole mosquito’s persistence

Is this all I am going to hear tonight?
As I watch my clothes hang dry
In a room I meticulously cleaned
Today morning
Hoping to have a better time 

If only clean rooms 
Sorted out the mess

I wish you were the wind
Which is now playing with my hair..

I wish you were the cloudy sky
That has hidden the moon for me tonight..

For a while..

I wish you were these traffic lights
That are making my cheeks red..

I wish you were these streets I see
They seem to be talking to me..

Non-stop..

Of their dreams
Of what they dreamt 
As I listen 

dreamily

Resting my head
On the upper deck
Of this bus
Which is taking me
600 kms away 
From you

But thanks 
to the wind and the sky
and the streets and the lights
You are always with me 
In one form or another 

And I spend 
Each of these nightly encounters
In hope that they'll spill 
Into one morn or another 

When I wake up to realize
That it was really you 
Who'd spoilt my hair last night
And not the wind..

And not the wind..

Fury / Saga of Returning Home After 11pm

I returned home late tonight.

I have sinned.

Now I must face my father’s fury.

Doesn’t matter. I’m exhausted already.

I had informed him in advance.

I had informed him at every stage.

No answers such as How was the play? Or How was the meeting? were ever sought.

Like me 50 other women in the train compartment.

At least 30 in the rickshaw line.

I did not feel threatened.

I should have asked them, my friends to drop me home.

I should have asked them, my family to pick me up.

I should’ve gone for an afternoon show instead.

My being is a liability.

A one of dependency.

Not all auto drivers are Krishna Bhagwan.

I wonder sometimes if I can feel safe in any corner at all.

The lift. The stairs. The balcony. My room.

Who cares.

I wonder if the auto driver who raped was ever yelled at

with such fury which made me cry the painfullest cry,

a silent one

Damn you society.

I want to borrow some tomorrows
I want to bury some yesterdays

I want to carbon-date today

Shared spines
and borrowed bones

What's one's own of a clone?

I weep
I sweep
I weep again
I sleep
I wake up
I weep

Life is eventful.

If you can read my mind right now
I would be planning tomorrow's breakfast

But don't be surprised 
If I skip breakfast tomorrow

What if I told you that 

sometimes,
I get dreams of other men
I see faces of them
their bodies, Lying by my side

sometimes,
I wonder, In your love
How can I reserve it, 
Just for you

When from the inside
I feel like
Making love to everyone

But without you,
there will be no other men
or women

It is a deserted place
My heart.

I did not light a diya

I did not make rangolis

I did not cook sweets

I did not exchange smiles

I did not wear new clothes

Or even burst few crackers

No excuses

I just didn't feel like it

But I am happy

Please remind me of my misery.

Sounds Familyar

A lunch made with love

Will be eaten in a lull.

“I was missing you

In the farm

Near the water reservoir

On the terrace

In the front-yard

Near the temple

While flying a kite”

“Why? Was I not with you?

I was hiding behind the tree”

High alert in Ahmedabad today

It is Woman’s Day as well

1st day of my periods

And the kitchen sink is clogged

Damn it!

So I’m off to Irani

It is 9:30 pm

Infested with men

I’m alone

And dressed in red.

My love is away

My friends are busy

No one for me

But these lingering eyes.. plenty!

ALERT!

3% says my phone

‘Battery about to die’

And so am I?

Half plate anda keema

Half plate bun maska

Aur do chai

Complimentary

Was the mood swing, perhaps

@ the MASTER Watch Centre

The man tells me a tale

Of a rat-bite

Right behind me,  is the Gutter.

420 Rupees, was the injection!

My eyes traced his rings meanwhile

Gold Gold Blue Green

See the swelling!?

See that cut!?

That scratch of a second

Oh! My finger, he cried

Litres of blood oozed away

In that half an hour

(Tell me about it, I said)

If you want the cell

To last longer

That will be 60 Rupees

For 3 to 4 months

it will cost 30 Rupees

Better go to Titan

And for a 110 bucks

My cell Shall Last Forever?

Beyond me?

You see, I am beyond repair

In life, unprepared.

He waited

As I estimated

How long will I last indeed

So I can get the Value For Money.

A police van takes off

Across the street

What if a bomb exploded

Right here

Killing me

I recall his lovely laughter

Slightly a moment after

I get inside an auto

And ask for Paldi

Battery Empty

Said my phone

And died

I wonder what time is it..

घर मे हुँ
गहराई मे हुँ
तुम्हारी आवाज़ कट रही है
और दिन भी कट रहे हैं|

A passenger boards
my train of thoughts
every single day
with his reserved ticket

it feels awful to 
drop him off
and I have to run back on time
else I'll lose my track

then will the passenger
ever come back?!

or will my train of thoughts
turn into a baggage counter
one, two, three of sorts
unclaimed brief cases of lots

as reminders of 
what's forgot.

एक मोमबत्ती
पिघल रही है
अंधेरे में

आग उसको
निघल रही है
फैले बिन

यहाँ कहीं
ज़िक्र नहीं है
समय का

होगा वहीं
इधर नहीं है

चले फिर?

Lost and found

by an offshore look

Stirred and fried 

by an off screen cook

at Eames last night.

Wednesday's phone call

was just yesterday in fact.

एक गुफा चाहिए

या चाहिए एक कुआ

गहरा और काला

खोखला

एक सन्नाटा चाहिए

या चाहिए एक आवाज़

एक कंधा चाहिए

या चाहिए एक गुलदस्ता

खास और बेहिसाब

बेवजह

एक बुखाार चाहिए 

या चाहिए इतमेणान

A clean slate
so clean
that I'm afraid to paint

But 
I am not even an artist
and 
this is not even my canvas.

you are
filled to the brim
maybe
overflowing with love
I am
a vessel bottomless 
there is nothing you can do about

until
you too feel empty
you too need
not me
and I still breathe
hollow

and we love repeat 
although
we'll look elsewhere
because

killed each other 
we have
spilled each other's 
coffee

that had not bean bitter
in the first place
but was too sweet 
in fact

order another one 
we could
now that
i realize how vacant is my stomach
today
to pass time

postpone
maybe tomorrow
not yet
perhaps
how about
later
tonight
let's contemplate
instead
formulate
a plan b
just in case
accidents
can't be embraced
postpone
not yet
not now
i close my eyes
i shut my ears
and wait
simply
for what 
i know not
postpone however
postpone nevertheless
don't nag
my heart is afraid
hyper also
the time is off
my mind is off
it is off
often
because
of what
i know not
postpone
this thought as well
my mood is off
off-center
off the grid
cut off.

The heart wanders

and trespasses

into territory 

forbidden

Signs of welcome 

there aren't any

Should the heart 

Stop?

or should it skip a beat

and

keep skipping beats

on repeat...

The vanishing act

When each day

gets consumed

like a pattern

I often go off the grid

to reclaim 

my independence

that has been 

under habitual siege

be mindful however

of this vanishing act

lest it be

a masked routine.