Sunday, December 16, 2012

Freedom met Hope and other poems

She decided to become a poet
Write beautiful songs

That night
Her knee-length black hair
Turned whitish grey
Even as she slept

Truth is discoverable
But is truth a he? Or a she?
Perhaps deception?
Or a game we're losing

Freedom met Hope
In the back seat of a ST bus
They started a relationship 
When Hope paid for the bus ticket
This led to marriage
They travelled
Sometimes standing
Sometimes on top of the bus
Moving from one town to another

One day, Hope was abandoned
Was informed, "Mr H, Utopia is not healthy
Our people encounter grief"
They want fishes
To fly
Instead of swim

Freedom was not permitted to accompany Hope
She continued with her nomadic life
Given the nature of the times
She frequently changed places of residence
Took up temporary causes

One day, there was a knock on the door
That's when she fled

He holds a photograph
Of a village near Hingni 
That may vanish, in entirety, in a space of a few days
Due to 558 registered suicides (so far)
This year

More people die of smallpox and snake bites
He says, with a smile

Accursed questions: when will you stop asking them
Asked the ruler
As he flogged the sea waves
For disobeying his diktat

Saturday, December 15, 2012

Raga Daes on the surbahar

The shrub told the tree
Can I sit in your lap?

She feeds toast to 99 pigeons
Named after the 100 Kauravas
Duhsala is missing
Since she prefers French Fries

So, the story is, Krishna was asked by Saraswati
How much taalim do you do to woo these pretty gopis?

Once upon a time, Ampersand was the 27th alphabet
Till Z nudged it out of the last place in the English lexicon

The day, mother played Raga Daes on the surbahar
The tree outside her window decided to scent its flowers

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

To sit on a stone and six other shorts

Oh, how many smiles
Did she not smile, today

Is there anything more tragic than a man
Who chews paan
Instead of swallowing the betel juice
Spits on himself in the mirror

What happens to an unfinished story ...

My dad is better than yours
Since he can put his ears to the sand
And predict the exact moment
Low tide becomes high tide

The tree is dead
Do we burn it
Along with the other dead trees
On the funeral pyre

The way mother
Wraps a saree around her hips
Reminds him of an algebra sum

To sit on a stone
Watch the grass grow

Thursday, December 6, 2012

A compass that helps find happiness

A collection of 143 types sarees with a matching set of blouse
Four cats, three maids, two cars
And a husband

The judge's eyes widened
When the prosecutor sang a libretto in the court
As part of his petition

She enters the room
With ayurvedic herbs in her hair

Whenever I open my eyes after a particularly troublesome night of ponder
My first thought is
I hope the neighbour has not stolen the newspapers
Yet again

When guru one came face to face with guru two
In the airport lounge
There was silence

Did you know
Little B has shifted his penis to his little finger
Whensoever he wants to do susu
He puts his hand out of the train window
And does so

In the kitchen, she stood
Wondering what the Bhagvad Gita said
About adding sugar-free to gaajar ka hawla

You have let us down, said my parents to me
I wonder why
As I read their post-card in the andaa cell
At Yerawada Jail

He yearned for a kiss from her sweet lips
She pined for Nalli Nahari in desi ghee

The dowry demand said: a compass that helps find happiness

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Adam and Eve

What if it hadnt worked out for 
Adam and Eve on their blind date