A crucifix I carry I call it home!

A crucifix 

sometimes has a roof and walls

windows with latches

doors with holdfasts

it is a monster

changing forms

like a leech

fangs deep into the skin

it demands and demands

cleaning,chopping,dusting

boiling,grating,cooking

locks,keys,bulbs,soaps

candles and matches

it is hungry

it is angry

sucks hope from the marrows

you dump and dump

exhaustion and hurt

till your heart stinks

ready to burst

the aches and pains

the monster's love bites

all over body and soul

always wanting

more, more,more

I looked for synonyms

to make it sound better

residence, abode, household

A crucifix I carry

I call it home!

Bad Omen

humans are strange

they dress up graves

and coffins

just like they do brides

They won't care

unless your death can fill

their gossip inboxes

the one who might write

lofty obituaries

shall do so

to keep the superhero tag

of compassion 

for the doomed you

you will be alone

dying

drop by drop

or falling

floor by floor

images flashing by

faster than the speed of light

the little girl leaning on her father

the young teenager's first kiss

the woman in love

giving up her world for it

the mother who survived

the child who didn't

the wife hiding the scars

behind the makeup

the brave woman

who didn't let her hand

or her voice shake

even when her soul 

was falling apart

all of you

she loved

she had only soul to give

and a body

but you wanted more

so she let you go

to find your more

and let you push the dagger

deeper and deeper

into her heart

smiling

The mirror had cracked that morning

the hairdresser warned the bride

it was a bad omen!

the last time...

Do you remember the last time....

• you were a child and sat in a parent's lap
• you believed in superheroes and magic
• you hid a candy to have it later
• you looked in the mirror and cried
• you put a coin in a piggy bank
• you held a deceased parent's shriveled hand
• you put your tired head on a friend's shoulder
• you felt the warmth of a loved one next to you
• you saw someone smile and it melted your heart
• you saw a sunset and it didn't make you sad
• you read an obituary and said a prayer
• you saw a couple in love and smiled
• you brushed your fingertips on a baby's cheek
• you let a cup of tea get cold waiting for someone

the beauty and cruelty 
of every last time is
that you don't know it's the last

the last time !

The Lonely Woman's Poem

The loneliness epidemic

takes its toll

trapped in a utopia

called happily ever after

there is no today

the tea is stale

the books, the words

the lists, the voices

all stink

of uselessness

Someone's says-

"Blessing is..."

and I think of

the could have beens

the books I never wrote

the child I almost had

the dreams I postponed

Now this is an elaborate 

funeral ceremony

I bury myself

molecule by molecule

till you will one day

write obituaries

and know how much

my loneliness weighed.

Bruises on the soul

On a swing

with gentle hands of time

he pushed her

wind in her hair

the lightness of being

called love

and then all of a sudden

he withdrew the hand

from her back

the swing

slowed down

She fell

on a hard fact

with a thud

winter is not 

a good season

for bruises

on the soul !

Burial

“In the dark times 

Will there also be singing? 

Yes, there will also be singing.

About the dark times.” 

― Bertolt Brecht 

My body touches

smiles, loves, hates

feels 
while the soul
drowns in
a deafening silence

no bubbles reach
the surface
no ripples

the still waters
of life
choke my lungs
no songs now
no more words

I am buried
where you can't
light candles !

Yell Silently ( in the memory of my late father)

Y

 

 

Blogging from A to Z Challenge [April 2015]

 

 

Today 

I will just say

don't just listen to

the loud voices

the evident noises

listen to

souls

that mourn alone

and yell silently

 

 



eXit (in the memory of my late father)

X

 

 

Blogging from A to Z Challenge [April 2015]

 

Since that day

you passed away

the world has changed

in a strange way

 

my soul has altered

it seems

with the same eyes

I see different things

 

At a public place

under an EXIT sign

an old man

on a wheel chair

head bent

waiting to be

taken somewhere

 

and all I think

is about

you and me.

 

and the exit

 

that was bound to be

 

please continue

 

to live in me.



CHILDREN'S DAY SNAPSHOTS

31st December
my frozen hands
want to loose
their painful fingertips
long after the party is over
the dishes are done
I make a new year wish.

20th January
The shiny new flyover
is not a road
its curved underbelly
is home
cold, unsafe, no walls
the NGO people
tell us fairy tale


14th February
I sold 100 roses today
the money and mother
are gone
Are all policemen bad?


23rd March
I serve tea
to intelligent people
in the university
while they talk about revolution
someone called Bhagat Singh

17th April
My mom died
father is in prison for it
I am now a parent
to three of us.


27th May
The little girl
in the big house
where mom works
has something called vacation
I am sure it must be pretty

20th June
She says touch is love
Love cannot feel so bad
the chocolate she leaves behind
always tastes bitter
even when
I be a good boy

16th July
I polish the pretty school shoes
I iron the beautiful pinafore
I pack the tiffin
I walk the dog
I sometimes feel hungry.

15th August
I sold flags
at a traffic light
the tar burns
into my soles
what is In-de-pen-den-ce
who knows?

25th September
I can never forget
I can never tell
what he does to me
but I want to go to school....

19th October
The Diwali sweets
my fingers
my skin
tastes like gunpowder
my eyes can't bear the light
I make crackers.

14th November
CHILDREN'S DAY


 

Diwali once more

His eyes shine like that of a hungry kitten as the headlights of the car reflects in them. He is 6 or 7 eldest of 4 siblings and its a cold winter night in the North. Its Diwali today, his mother and youngest sister are shivering in high fever in their dimly lit hut in the slums. His father is missing with his drinking pals.  The other two are with him on the other side of the road rummaging the garbage through their freezing hands to find a coin that people may have thrown during the rituals or a big unused cracker that they could  sell. The headlights are too close but he has just spotted a ten rupee coin. He bends forward but is slightly late to bend back. His suffering is over.


The heavy embroidered saree is in place. the long artificial plait swings as she moves to the beat of the drum and sings aloud as if enjoying the attention from the neighbouring balconies and windows. The negotiations are louder than the songs, the juniors follow her lead in singing and negotiating. The servant serves them some juice in those separate glasses kept for the workers. The drummer stuffs the sweets and clothes into the bag. The lady of the house tells them to do their thing outside and not come in. The head eunuch blesses the new couple "May you have a son  soon !"


It is so easy and convenient to take two polarised views about Diwali

1. We work hard all year why shouldn't we celebrate, spend money, burst crackers, exchange gifts?
2. green Diwali, austere Diwali, socially aware Diwali

Ask the Margins
dear Power Center
your debates are useless
they change NOTHING.

Diwali once more.
 

Diwali Depression

Smile at the lights
try to measure
the nothingness
in the gaps
in between

the flickers of opulence
trying hard to light up
the dark long
nights of sadness.

The Green Bindi

Who were you?
what was your name?
what did you look like?
how often did you
admire yourself in that mirror,
the love and the anguish
the bliss and the woes
how much did you share with it?

I often imagine you
wherever I am
in this house
happy,sad,lonely,ecstatic !

I don't use this mirror often
but when I need someone
I come here
to share a secret of womanhood
I look at that
green-glittery bindi
in a corner of the frame
and I know why
for the last one year
I have let it be.