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