Love Stories

The night has fallen all over us

like rain falling on young lust.

The flour mill has resigned to a long-pending sleep.

The playground has reduced to a shy silence.

The temple pleads guilty of unanswered prayers.

The truck is stationed firmly like an obsession,

and with the false blue of its tail lamp

in its rear-view mirror, through a singular byway of sight,

moment by moment, we unbutton the night.

We shed a tear at midnight

Go berserk with laughter at one,

And fall dead-silent at two.

Imitating love stories,

the two of us. 

(First published in Dance of the Peacock: An Anthology of Indian English Poetry)

Ripples

Remember the ripples

that made loquacious shapes

on the taciturn lake!

The boats carried dim lights

The moon suffered a miscarriage

The wind walked in slowly like a thief

We were frozen

in a moving world

like an iceberg

in the middle of an ocean

In your eyes was

the warmth of three winters

The sky shivering

And I surrendered

(First published in Dance of the Peacock: An Anthology of Indian English Poetry)

A Winter Night

A winter night invades me

Like you once did.

It draws me

Into a pool of radiant memories,

flooded with you.

As you surround me

Crowding my mind like compartments of a local train

You sink in my moment like spattered ink in paper,

Burn within me with the mild flame of my lighter,

Enter my ears with a Pink Floyd song,

Toss a coin with you on both sides,

Kiss me into a world where timepieces are kaput,

Walk out of my sleep from the fringes of a dream

A winter night invades me

And leaves me gently with unmingled madness

Like you once did.

(First published in Dance of the Peacock: An Anthology of Indian English Poetry)

Andheri

You silly suburb

of eventualities!

Your derelict streets,

betrayed bars,

rotten corners

of loss and dismay,

ephemeral memories,

the escaping smoke

layered uncomfortably

over your malls and markets

scream for justice -

that was reduced to rubble

like your love stories.

(First published in Brown Critique: July 2013) 

The Crossover Wind

The crossover wind

whistles through the woods,

traces an arc above the sea.

An enclosed sea coast,

being spied on through the window,

of a cheap hotel room,

draws a face, so lovely.

Inside the room, a dusty lampshade emits light,

In the shape of me. The shape of me,

and the crossover wind,

travels a distance over the sea.

The crossover wind

trapped between the hotel and the sea,

a prisoner of the evening.

The frayed ends of the evening,

prick in my eyes,

initiating the gradual process,

of engendering the night.

Two eyes. Two anachronistic captives of an anachronistic night,

hunt for their murderer. Their murderer,

like the crossover wind, mad and noisy,

seeking its identity, restlessly wanders.

The crossover wind

greets this town, exchanges a smile,

grabs a whit of it from the native air.

The midway hangs

cut by the sea-shore off the midnight,

like the memory of an ex-lover

suspended in the twilight.

A private shadow, entangled by the hotel walls,

sinks in the sea. Sinks in the sea,

when the crossover wind,

frisks the him within me.

(First published in Enchanting Verses: November 2011)

My Anger

My anger is your slave

It’s loyal to you
Like I once was
And like
You should have been to me

My anger wants
To run around in the open
Do salsa with you
Dine with you
Make out with you

But it can’t
Because
My anger is your slave.


(First published in Brown Critique: July 2013)

Remember, Remember

One day, when the sun will rise intently from the centre of the sky,

and uncover the byways from the time-spat dust, on which

we walked on chilly nights of a solitary December,

and discovered lands, invented emotions: time and again

as we converged at secluded corners of day, hand in hand,

getting lost in the dark of many alleys and several turns

of the night; you may remember. The piercing chill of love

and the temperate cloud above: remember, remember;

the hypnotic December: someday, you'll remember.

(First published in Blue and Yellow Dog: Winter Issue 2012)