Thannare thana, thinna thannaram thaana....(II)
I am not sure of the words of their songs
I am not even sure if this is my language anymore.
But as the rhythm beats
It holds me in its serpentine sway.
My soul strums up some ancient memories
Of a life in the cradle of green fields
Of grains and harvests and rainfall
And pagan Gods.
The beating of crude drums remind me
Not to forget
Where I come from.
As the music fades into the distance
I walk up to the little temple of my ancestors
And light one more lamp in their memory.
And as the wick sputters into a bright light
I am once again my great-grandfather's thought of me,
I am a continuum of His cosmic grace.
First published in Indian Sahitya, Feb 2017 Issue on Contemporary Indian Poetry
You would not have walked with me Had the nights been not so scary And your nightmares All so real for you. I would not have held your hands...
आज़ादी हम भी चाहते हैं तुमसे आज़ादी। तुम्हारे मांगों से आज़ादी ये दंगों से आज़ादी जिन शोलों में तुम हो लिपटते मेरे आशाओं से भरे तिरंगे को ...
It was a long day. Just like any other of my dogged working days. There was nothing in it that stood out. As my fingers worked on the keybo...
As the rains drum down my windows I open them a little to allow a sprinkle Of the showers you so loved Wet me once more. There is nothin...