Wednesday, 29 July 2015

Ode to the Giant Colorful Umbrella


You look like a rainbow that got trapped between
The thick webs of a silly spider who did not know
Of the magic that happens when the rain and sun
Meet once in a while;

You are a lantern house in the night under the
Street bulb, shining your colors so strongly, I
Bet from really far away I look just like you
A rainbow colored girl.

And it’s magical how you have space for everyone
My friend, and her friend, and for the lady on
The street who forgot her rain protection at home,
You shall prove a good wingman some day.

And I had
Always been the rain girl, the one who prides
In her ability to jump over puddles
And finds happiness in the smallest of things
Who would have thought I’d find my joy
In you
You giant rainbow umbrella.

Tuesday, 28 July 2015

I am alone

In the walk by the cars that shine their headlights
Throwing their glow at my entire body; in the sounds
Of the horns that pass, screaming for someone
To notice their cry; in the mist of the smoke; in the heat,
And the after-rain cold; in the fire of the sun; in a
Raincoat with drenched feet; and in the music
That is always there but never really there with me.

I am alone.

In my joys that I feel scared to share, sometimes
Because someone else seems to be having a bad
Day; sometimes in my sadness because who wants
To add to someone else’s tearful load; in
The petting of a beautiful brown eyed coffee-colored
Dog who needs me so badly sometimes that he makes
Me walk away; I wish he could learn to be alone.

I am alone.

In my body, my skin, my being; there is only
One heart that belongs to me and it is mine; there
Is only one soul pretending to be living so many lives,
Only one mind that walks in one direction, needing
One kind of songs, and one kind of poems, and one
Kind of friends, and one kind of love; alone in the
Shower making myself feel joy after a tiring day.

I am alone.

In life, and will be, in death. Taking with me my
Steps and my words that are shared honestly only
With a few, only a few times; everything else is just a
Murmur to escape the silence of how alone we all are
In our pretense of being together; hugging and kissing
And making love again and again, trying to run
Away from ever admitting to ourselves
We are alone.

Sunday, 19 July 2015

An Ode to Food

What a tragedy it is to have forgotten
The exquisite names of meals that had once
Rolled down my tongue, made my lips curl
Into a toothy grin, and how it had once made
My belly feel so full, I couldn’t care if my
Heart felt empty; these names seemed to have
Jumped off the edge of my brain- now all I
Know of food is rotis and curry, and dal, a
Little bit of dosa and idli; the menu of the
Chinese restaurant near my house, the fried
Delciousness can now only be found in the
Stains of my diary entries; and the utterly butterly
Punjabi paranthas that I could once eat
Four at a time, are such a distant memory;
The break up with that plate of momos, how
We once used to meet every day; there was once
Andhra pickle in my room, we had a date with
Rice and curd; once there was biryani with shahi
Paneer, we would just eat without saying a word;
Months back there was a home, the fridge always
Leaking with fruits, and cucumbers, and cheese
My favorite place in the house, it always had something
For me; how long has it been since we met
My dear gulab jamuns, and rasmalais, the kaju
Ki barfis with wedding cards, and the rasgulas
That were present all the time; there
Were once visits to nani’s house, and yes
She loves to feed- bhel puris and aloo chaats,
And her special bhindi; and now the loss of
Rajma being called 'razma', I could still deal with it
But they got the taste all wrong; There was once
A winter with nothing but green methi paranthas
mirchi ka aachaar, and malai;
but these days I eat only because
This woman needs to survive.

And ah, the whole world shall empathize
If by some tragedy I go deaf or dumb
But so few ever understand this loss
Of the taste-buds going numb.



P.s- When I called my mom up to recite this poem, she was eating a mango. What's a mango?

Saturday, 4 July 2015

The first time your heart broke you realized
That something inside you actually hurts, the ‘break’ is not
Just a mere metaphor; And when it broke so many more
Times you started thinking that you were no
Longer a whole being but broken pieces floating in a
Complete-looking body; Each person came like a star in
The moonlit sky of your life, but each new one got duller
And so you’d cry, basking in the loneliness of your own
Moonlight; but you know, you shine, so don’t you ever
Fall in love with just a flashlight, and never let anyone tell
You to have just a bite, and never tell yourself that less is
Enough when you deserve more than you think you deserve;
So wait for everything you’ve always wanted, and I’ll pray
You get it (with a little bit more); till then listen to all the
Romantic songs you want, all the movies that give you hope,
And look at every passer-by asking yourself “Could this person
Be the one?”; give your heart one time, two times, too many times;
Don’t you ever stop being hopelessly romantic
One day you’ll find someone who looks at you like..
(yes, you’re right)
Like you’re magic.