Why we require agarbattis in an agarbatti stand

Before sun-rise
He bathed
Prayed to Goddess Laxmi
Offering agarbatti fragrance

Everyday
A new brand
Rose, jasmine, sandalwood, mogra, champa, tarangini

While G.L. swallowed superior-grade smoke
He repeated his daily money mantra:
Devi-ji
Maate-ji
May the people of this land remain stupid, eternally hereafter
So that people like me can gleefully fleece them and triple my bottom-line

The logic of the honky-tonk man

What's more important
Asked the honky-tonk man
Eating yesterday's left-over

Love?
A day job?
Just a song on the radio?

My friend's uncanny knack

Uncanny knack
My friend has

With his travels to Equitorial Guinea
To Belarus
To Uzbekistan
To Kazaksthan
To Iran

Last week,
He did deals in
Ethiopia and Rwanda

Don't you travel to happy lands?
His daughter asks him

He sips his single malt
Issues an opprobrium of sorts

Thick skinned countries
With thick skinned leaders
Create thick skinned citizenry
Who don't require high and mighty lectures and ideals

They require money
Which we pour
They require largesse of guilt
Which we leverage

Saying so my friend planned his next trip
To Eritrea

At route number 524

At route number 524
Waiting for the bus
He took leg stump guard

When no one was looking
The septuagenarian
Twirled his working folding umbrella
Tapped the ground thrice
Bent his knees
Leaned forward at a right angle
Unleashing the most perfect drive through cover

Something Rahul Dravid would have been proud of

A Callery pear

This is my story

My parents
Who were they?
I hope they loved me

My latest birthday
I became more deciduous than I was ever meant to be
Brylcreem for my foliage, green
Bespoke tailoring for my branches, weak

I want to tell the story of my life
It is the only I know to tell

This fall,
My leaf turned shiny dark red to scarlet
I realise the grotesquery of my flowers, white
I pick up conversations from the bees
About sweet shops and bakeries
About grated Grana Padano and the aroma of fresh dill

Granite slabs for tombstones
Oak trees for company
But I can't dialogue with a 30-feet statue of Plato
Or the Tanagra figurines at my feet

I'm a marvel
In front of me
Silhouetted bodies pay a ticket
To mourn
They egregiously kiss
The tip of my fruit, inedible

If I could talk
I would tell you my fate
Today I plan to self-immolate

Quite elementary

Quite elementary

He was told

When he was born

Please pray in Sanskrit

Communicate with your grand-parents in our mother-tongue

Four lectures per week in school in the state language

Attend office in English

Government-speak in Hindi

Order wine in French

Give gaalies in all of the above

And never-ever lapse into silence

Let's talk poetry

1.
Two fonts stared
At each other
Across enemy lines

Till one said to the other: Let's talk poetry


2.
Long long ago
I covered
P V Narsimha Rao's 7 am election rally
In his constituency in Behrampur

Woke up with a jolt
Having over-slept as always

The sun had risen
I rushed to the broken window with tooth powder on my forefinger
Realised my mistake

It was bright light from a lamp-post
The street was illuminated
Behind the plastic curtain

You see
The local administration
Had switched on the power supply for the PM's rally


3.
Every evening
The old man knotted fresh champa flowers
In her hair
She placed her hands on his shoulder
Walking into the night

I could have burst into tears


4.
I mustered courage
Invited her home
For the first time

She stood above my bed
In her white cotton saree and said:
What's all this

I replied:
My thermos flask with hot water
Crocin strip
An old train ticket from Sindhri to here
Hair brush, nail cutter, transistor
A book of poems by Nagarjuna with two pencils in it
And lots of dust

That's when she undressed
Folded her saree
Placed it on yesterday's newspaper
Picked up the broom

Restlessly
I watched her
Clean my room
For hours and hours
Till all was spic and span

Then she left
Without a word


5.
She
Couldn't sleep
It was a terrible day
She stepped out for a glass of water

And saw
A cockroach crawling all over the elephant god's trunk
Instead of screaming
She went to sleep saying: what am I?
These days, even the gods are helpless