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Us and Them, at the Secunderabad Station

They see my starched white linen
And my custom leather shoes:
Another White guy, they think
And don't hold my glance

They make way for me
So that their dark hungry frames
And their smelly patchy clothes
Don't invade my privileged spaces

Nothing from their struggling beings
Should waft into my being
And fight my Davidoff.

Even their children
A ball of unkempt hairs and leaky nose
Rarely return my smile

Ma Bharati
This land that I walk on
Is not my land
It is their land
The land of the slowly dying
And the barely living

I should be dead
For the unforgiving sin
Of merely being alive.
Recent posts

Come with me into the Sea

The undulation of the terrain
Matches the ruggedness of the soul
Here I grow into you
Grass and roots and boughs and all
And there you run away from me
Silt and soil and sand and all

Here I am the land
And there you are the river
Together, muddied and sullen and silent
We whirl our destinies
Into the awaiting Sea
With our longing and our lust
And our memories and our Souls entwined
We all journey
Into the Sea,
Into the Sea.

Standing Tall

Can I stand tall
In the face of this all
As if it were my life
And it were my battle
And my hell
Full of my favorite daemons
In my own closed attic rooms,
Alleys and corridors?

Can I call to this Yagn

All the angels and the Gods
And all the Patriarchs
From the abode of the Old?

Can I stand tall
In the face of this all
As if it were my life?

I close my eyes
And I can see you sulking through
Shoulders drooping
Eyes no longer ablaze
Your soul tired
From battling all this
All alone..

I can
I Can.

Can you still hear me?

If I could reach out to you
Through the crisscrossing noise
Of the crushing static undertones

You would hear your name
Read out aloud
In every prayer I let out
Into this now empty universe.

You are in the crackling
And the sputtering
Of breeze stricken diyas
From all Diwalis past

You are in the daily din of life
That is walking by
Without looking back at the souls
Stranded on cobblestone pavements
And left behind in time.


If I could reach out to you
Through the dense fog
Of distant minds and angry hearts
You would hear my heart beat
With the same erratic thump
That you left behind.

That City Girl

For me you have been a traveler The one who rides the oceans
and the big blue seas
Seeking experiences
That can be framed into postcards Of wonderful memories For a future  That is yet to unravel. 
Your today's rush you Into your tomorrows  And in its wake Small boats likeme
Would mostly sink Into long forgotten memories Of abandoned islands  Where you now live no more. 
As I watch you sleep The glasses back on your face The little girl back in the rug The silent one yearning for a hug I feel you tug at my cuffs Ten more minutes,  you say Stay with me,  for ten more minutes... And then I am scared Of who you will be When you wake up.

Tough times

Sometimes,  life drums itself into a crescendo. The high notes bleed you and the low notes depresses you 
When you decide to change your skin You realise that you got it all wrong!
You will hurt  Your loved ones will hurt  And you will see red,  Everywhere. 
Who ever told you,   That it will be easy Lied to you. 
Whoever told you That it will be tough Lied to you too.
Nobody outside of you Will ever have a clue. 
And if you pull through Whatever you go on to become May or may not be What you ever wanted to be.
A puppet on strings invisible As you dance to your present death Everybody else out there Is just watching you And probably Having fun. 

Circle of Life

It was a roller coaster life
Until it was not fun anymore

Whirlwind tours
Large, life changing projects
Lots of love
Lots of attention
Until it was a party no more.
When it rained
And the grass was green again
When it was springtime
And the Vishu flowers
Bloomed again
I could sense her call
In the increased longing
Of my lines now gradually filling
With pathos and loss
I looked at the work-bay
So antiseptically clean!
The computer screen
With a background
That now had no new stories to tell! And I looked out of the window
And saw a million cars
Being driven
To now meaningless places
For now meaningless reasons.
I closed my eyes and she spoke to me... Through the pollen and the petrichor Through the call of the fisherman And the song of the paddy field worker I could hear the evening drums from my village temple Now beat closer home than ever before The deity would visit me in my dream And ordain: Follow me home, follow me home, follow me home!

It is only a little tract of land