Monday, April 25, 2016

311. याद आएगा

तू कोई और थी
मैं कोई और था

तू क्या थी कौन थी
मैं क्या था कौन था

चल बैठें ज़रा
तो शायद हमें
कुछ याद आएगा

कुछ कह दे ज़रा
तो शायद हमें
कुछ याद आएगा


दिखाओ ज़रा
लम्हों के लिबास
बताऊं तुम्हें
तुम पे ये जचती हैं या नहीं

उतारो ज़रा
हो जा बेलिहाज़
बता दूँ तुम्हें
तुम पे ये जचती ही है नहीं

खुलके ज़रा
मुझपे हंस दे

रह रहके ज़रा
मुझको डस ले

कुछ कह दे ज़रा

चल बैठें ज़रा

कुछ कह दे ज़रा
तो शायद हमें कुछ याद आएगा


तू कोई और है
मैं कोई और हूँ

तू क्या है कौन है
मैं क्या हूँ कौन हूँ

कुछ कह दे ज़रा
तो शायद हमें
सब याद आएगा


I was someone else
you were someone else

who and what was I
who and what were you

let's sit for a bit
and then maybe
we will remember something

say a li'l something
and then maybe
we will remember something

show me the wardrobe of moments you have been through
let me tell you if they suit you

take off this politeness, be chill around me (like you used to)
let me tell you this look does not suit you

come on, laugh at me
pointlessly be mad at me
(like old times)

just say something
and then maybe
we will remember

I am someone else
you are someone else

who and what am I
who and what are you

say something
let's sit for a bit
and then maybe
who we were
we will remember it all


This is inspired by my paranoia that I will drift away from the people I am close to.
That, one day, we will become these polite frigid acquaintances who do not know what is happening in each other's life, and do not know what to talk about, and do not know how to laugh at each other, how to jibe, how to be annoyed with each other and annoying to each other.


Friday, April 22, 2016

310. Failed attempts at suicide

come off it

give up the dramatic attempts
at suicide

you have done the same drill for years

the trick is getting a little too old
4.5 billion years old
to be precise

you follow us everywhere
and fling yourself off heights
each night

if we are in city
you jump off the terrace

if we are in the woods
you jump off a hill

oh, always in slow motion
might I add

the other night
you upped the drama
and dragged your shimmery cloak of light
ever so slowly
across the waters of the Puget Sound
before you flung yourself off the trees
to your impossible death

give it up
you are cursed with a long life
I hear
you are going to be around for a long long time
after we leave

it must be hard to
things you fall in love with
leave you
behind alone

I know how you feel
(actually I do not)

it must be tough
but well,
you will live

deal with it

I could have helped you
kill yourself
but euthanasia
is not legal anywhere I live


PS: I hear you will be doing the same drama in slower motion.

In a short while like 50 billion years, your trip round the earth will be 47 days, not 27 days like it is now.
Ah, so 20 more days to switch between your emaciated and plump looks.

Is it true that you taught the likes of Chrisian Bale and Jared Leto the art of physical transformation for more credible acting?


This year, I intend to stay obsessed with the moon. 
Most science stuff is kinda true (according to the Internet at least - like the age of the moon, and that the moon's revolution will take longer, and that the moon is slowly but definitely moving away from us. We have grown a tad repulsive in recent times, even the moon can't stand to stay close and watch.

309. Returning from the other side

what have you become?
where did you go?
you now have more limbs
than anybody knows
you now have more limbs
than anybody wants
just no heart and
too many hands
too many talons
too many fangs
just all screeches
no more songs
no more sorrys
no more thanks

what have you seen?
where have you been?
what have you become?
where did you go?
you have come back somebody
I just cannot know
too many limbs
and just no heart
too many limbs
no breathing parts

308. बहरा

मैं अपने पहलू में
कितने शहरों से गुज़रा हूँ
कितने पहरों से गुज़रा हूँ

मेरी हम-उम्र हम-सफ़र है
मेरी जुड़वा बहन है ये

जबसे मैं था
मेरे साथ ये थी

जबसे मैं सुनने लगा हूँ
आवाज़ें जैसे उलझ रही हैं
कदमों से मेरे

तन्हा हो गया हूँ मैं
इस शहर में

इस शोर के मेले में
बिछड़ गयी है
जुड़वा मेरी

अब उसके बिना
मुझे ये गुफ्तगू के नक़्शे
अजीब लगते हैं
और ये बातूनी चेहरे
अजनबी लगते हैं

अगर किसी को
ज़रा मुझे बता देंगे?

a not too terse way of saying the same thing.

anchored in silence

lost in the noise

Thursday, April 14, 2016

307. Anchored in silence

I was deaf

I am lost now
that I hear

Wednesday, April 06, 2016

306. Response - I

a. Mandy Petit

his name is Mandy Petit
and now he leaves me restless and curious
what flavour his words would turn out tomorrow
while I warm my hands on his steaming bowl of poetry
if his strongly dyed metaphors will bleed color
all over my thoughts
leaving me to scrub them
in the cold Seattle rain
yet again


( ...
Has my culture or my gender or my
*insert any category here* 
not suffered enough for your sense of justice to feel appeased?

Or would prefer to see my physical scarring?
Would you prefer I prostrate myself upon your judgement
and sever my own head with the axe you grind?

Does my sex and skin colour
or my faith and heritage 
automatically disqualify me from having the slightest ounce of integrity?


Sit with me. Talk to me. Don't give up on me.
If we are going to make this thing work,
we both need grace.

by John Englezos)

what if
I have been reduced
to a label
too often
for too long
I no longer believe
that there can be any
another currency for conversation
but these labels

what if
I have wanted ways out too
but all roads so far
have led me back
to the same place

what if
I did not want
an ax to grind
to begin with
and it does
not belong to me

what if
the pain is too sharp
the wait, too long
to be graceful

walk me out
of here
I don't want to
give up you


Sometimes answers do not make sense without questions
Unfair that questions are good by themselves; but answers not so much. :)

305. 8 years 5 kilos 30 rupees

eight years and five kilos of
words and ink narrating all
my fortune and misfortune
and mother unknowingly
sold my diaries as trash
for thirty. well, at least she
got a good price for my past


Rehashing an old thought

304. Travelling

I don't want to go places
I just want to go home

the last time
I stepped away from home
to see places
I returned
to an unfamiliar neighbourhood

everything seemed the same
but nothing felt like home
and I didn't belong anymore

so now I keep still
and wait for home to return

people call me stupid
they say
one does not need to be to belong
I tell them
they are stupid
one does not need to see to believe

so I just listen to stories
and look at pictures on the net
to know how exotic
all these faraway places are

I don't need to go places
I just need to go home
or may be keep still
till home comes back to me

Tuesday, April 05, 2016

303. They say

Today's is a guest post. I asked my husband to write me a poem, and this is what he does.

He can’t multi-task,
They say.
With blinders on,
The world around him
Is gone.

He’s very focused,
They say.
One at a time,
Concentration is

He is so intense,
They say.
Watching a screen,
Doesn’t notice a
Loud scene.

He does just one thing,
They say.
Ignoring all,
Follows paths and goes

He can’t multi-task,
They say.
With blinders on,
The world around him
Is gone.

So they say.
Yes, they say.
But they’re wrong.

He can do two chores,
I say.
One work gets care,
All the while pulling
His hair.

Monday, April 04, 2016

302. Monday

I was asked
how has your Monday been?

I said

I was asked

I turned to Monday
and looked at her questioningly

she was trying hard to be silent
and to not be noticed

she exclaimed
I hoped
you wouldn't notice
that I am here

I wanted to be less hated
for a change

I was trying so hard 
to be unremarkable

because when people notice me
and they remark
they only make horrible remarks
they call me manic
all because I follow the lazy lout Sunday

I hate Sunday
because he makes the world hate me

I felt sorry
for Monday

I have an idea
I said

Monday looked at me
curious and unconvinced

why don't we move 
to another country
I said
I hear there are a few 
where the weekends are different
they come on Fridays and Saturdays

so guess what
the people there 
hate Sundays

Monday rolled her eyes

yeah right
I doubt you would survive there
she retorted
you know 
I would rather I be hated
than you be dead

she winked at me

she drives me crazy
but I think I like Monday
with her penchant for drama and dry humor

she is not all that bad

Sunday, April 03, 2016

301. Introductions

I used to feel hurt
now I don't
now I understand

nobody likes pain
nobody wants to go through pain
nobody should have to live with pain
so we invented
life jackets to protect us from drowning
air bags to help us in car accidents
bulletproof vests to protect us from guns
and lies to save us from the stares, the remarks, the smirks and the disapproval
white lies, dark lies, half lies - all kinds of lies

I wonder why introductions were invented at all
and when they were,
were they invented to explain the presence of people in places
forced confessions like they are now
or did they come to be this way
through the perverse curiosity of people
needing to know more than they need to know

when we meet people
some days I am his husband
and I love it

some days I am a friend
some days I am his flatmate
some days I am someone he barely knows through a common friend
and I am fine with all that too

but some days it hurts like a bitch
when I am just a name followed  by a pause
a pause that neither admits nor denies anything
a pause which is crowded with emotion
guilt, frustration, apprehension, sadness
and it hurts
I know
the pause hurts him more than it hurts me
when he looks at me briefly
smiles sadly
and quickly looks away

this is now a well-rehearsed ritual
hiding the most precious things we have
from the sight and opinion of others
like we do not hang our pictures
on walls
but hide them
in private albums
lest people know
we are two men
hopelessly and irredeemably in love

white lies
to save us from pain!?

I used to feel hurt by them
now I don't
now I understand

Not completely my story (thankfully!) 

Saturday, April 02, 2016

300. Talk to me

talk to me, love

I see cracks
in the walls of our hearts
let us patch them up
with conversation

I have seen too many hearts
fall apart
when silence came
and lived in the young cracks
like moisture

the monsoons
came and left
but the silence
the insidious silence
slowly ate the insides away
long after the outbursts and downpours had stopped

and harsh words and crumbly pain
started falling out like loose plaster
through the cracks
and before they knew it
their hearts
their homes
fell apart around them

so before it is too late
talk to me, love
talk to me