tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58156497782165369082012-01-23T06:21:39.215+05:30PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.comBlogger241100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-15314145365941416472011-02-03T20:00:00.004+05:302011-02-03T22:16:03.785+05:30

I see the skytip the sun on its sideand pour leftover sunsetonto rippling wavesa thin layer of pink silkglows lightly onlittle wave headswith molten gold crestsand when I touch the watermy fingertipstingle with twilight

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-4305086476305720922010-12-23T12:39:00.001+05:302010-12-23T16:46:44.748+05:30

One monsoon dayI turned them outThey stoodOn the footpathLike vagrantsShiveringIn the rainI sawthe paint run downthe noseof my beggar childI sawgreen raindropsslither slowly downmy banyan's gnarled rootsI sawthe moonimpaled on the bare branchesof my winter treebleed tortured lightI sawmy colours shimmerin muddyswirlinggutter rainbowsAnd thenfinallyI foundmy pot of goldimage from: vi.sualize.us

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-32365824080850901992010-12-20T18:49:00.001+05:302010-12-23T16:48:28.672+05:30

“Hey, wonderful blog! I’m a fan”“Thanks for the visit. I like your stuff too.”“I’ve blogrolled you. Hope you don’t mind.”“Not at all, you’re on my blogroll too.”Commenting, competing, critiquing, prodding, sharing, writing for each other, laying their selves bare for each other, they became as intimate as lovers.No, they became more intimate than lovers because they had never seen each other’s

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-33456389270766655902010-04-30T13:32:00.003+05:302010-12-23T16:51:38.891+05:30

I see your brittle eyesYour pupils break into shardsmelting almost transparentlyswimming awayonly to dropdown your cheeksand onto my tongueAnd onto my tonguesalt pin pricksspread sourwooly wordsthat escapefumingwith my breathand fill the air between usI see you turn awayimage from: elfwood.com

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-87262598801821488862010-02-17T12:42:00.001+05:302010-12-23T17:02:28.771+05:30

You see that templein the horizon?That’s whereeverydaya sun is killedpierced by the spire.Sometimesyou can even smellsun-singed smokecenturies staleembalmed in psychescold and stilllike duston marble statues.Naked, trembling,I roll into a ballhide in night cloudsof petrified charcoaland growa secret moonto smile white fireat the spire.image from: poietes.wordpress.com

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-37762141220168650262010-01-07T20:52:00.000+05:302010-01-07T21:49:03.868+05:30

“Bye Mom.”And in a while again“See ya, Mom.”And a while later, a mumbled “Hmmmph”Then she was alone.That’s when she caught her first breath.The rest of her day was tethered to a tight 740 square foot radius that held the kitchen, bucket, clothesline, iron and television soaps until the demands came back in the evening and stayed the night.…One everyday, she left the door unlocked and walked into

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-36694992932773787612009-09-19T23:13:00.004+05:302009-11-17T18:59:16.489+05:30

Crashing downfrom the moonthe sea beatsthat rockin waves of frustrationClaws its shouldersin panic againstthe tug of faraway silvercovers its craggy facein foam kissesand leaves.Again.

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-17440244076042292392009-09-07T22:54:00.001+05:302009-11-17T19:00:07.968+05:30

As he let himself in, his new bride was on her tiptoes in front of the crockery cabinet. An appetizing aroma filled the air.He nuzzled, then bit her neck and she arched back to receive his kiss. “Mmmm…you look good enough to eat.”“Down, boy; first the mussels. I got lucky today. Tahir’s boat was just coming in when I went for my walk.”They lingered over dinner, teasing each other. He spooned

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-76896390184606835092009-09-05T00:19:00.010+05:302009-11-17T19:01:08.246+05:30

The sun was a discoloured canvas ball, fraying around its edges, washed and hung out to dry in the western sky as he trudged homewards. The wind lashed at him, pushing his head lower and he walked, one foot carefully ahead of the other, the headmaster’s voice echoing in his ears in a litany of shame.“Kal ki baat aur thi. You were good…new technology…you should have upgraded…it’s a new world now…

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-59758241055230624642009-08-15T10:11:00.001+05:302009-11-17T19:01:39.029+05:30

The sea stirslazilyarchingupto lick the moon’schinThe moon a lemon wedgedrips golden juiceslitheringcoldlyin a thin linedownherspineSpent,we float apart.

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-91472699795569200032009-08-11T22:48:00.001+05:302009-11-17T18:52:52.343+05:30

Night-charredmemorieswhimper indifferent protestas I burn them in dry heapsso I canglow againin the heat of the momentand shinetransluscent goldthrough my pores

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-55765037790768420792009-08-06T01:36:00.008+05:302009-11-17T19:03:02.861+05:30

August 6 is Hiroshima Day. This post is my way of saying that I will not forget the victims of that tragedy and other man-created tragedies that have affected and will affect generations of human beings who did not ask to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Hiroshima, Chernobyl, Bhopal are all part of the same string and this song is for those who remain silent wayside victims of man's

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-84517857942078551882009-08-05T12:08:00.002+05:302009-11-17T18:51:25.457+05:30

Then,when you were goneI wrapped the night upin warm, soft, faded yesterdaysNow,alone,yesterdaysare cold cubesof crystal-sharp momentsOn a moon-heated nightsometimes,they crackle and snap,melting,and leak frozen painfrom then to now

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-81516302029582142932009-07-30T10:26:00.003+05:302009-11-17T18:50:43.387+05:30

Therethe seastruts and foamsTherethe moonteases her,sending shivers of silveracross her bodyHereI toss my years with youin indiscriminate boxesto instant eternitysomewhere in the attic

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-23197487418629355332009-07-30T10:25:00.005+05:302009-11-17T19:03:39.534+05:30

I think the story works better this way now that I've pruned it down to its bare essentials. I like 55 Fiction!“Don’t!” I begged.The shape of my lips made a blood-kiss on the marble floor.“Kneel, Bitch!”Drunk on the moon’s tears, I became Kali between your knees. My tongue hung red, bloody, thirsty.You pushed my face down. I bit and tasted your blood mingling with mine.Then you were the one

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-49524632063344432912009-07-17T22:47:00.004+05:302011-12-20T13:18:11.741+05:30

The cat met me at my door when I returned from work that fall evening. He led me inside, took stock of his surroundings and decided to stay. I enjoyed his company all winter. One spring evening, I let myself in and he let himself out. I never saw him again.

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-61002063244777327842009-07-11T14:43:00.006+05:302009-11-17T18:57:28.410+05:30

We met; we loved; we married; we lived.Suddenly one summer night, the dust-storm came, whipping palms into obeisance and stinging sand-cinders into dry eyes. When the spiraling dust settled, a manic, shrieking silence strangled life.The storm ended but we were no more.You were burnt to ashes and I had eroded.

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-87606982441786193182009-07-05T21:47:00.002+05:302009-11-17T18:44:06.356+05:30

My time hereneatly packed awaypaid forand forwarded,I begin another ending.On the drive to the airportI count the graveyardsfor the last timeChristopher counts the milestonesand makes a mental listof all the loose endsI've refused to tieRuth, strangely silent,sits in the backcolouring her cigarettesgreen with an indelible markerBefore boarding,for the sake of a traditionfive years and four

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-77123165716434926262009-07-04T12:43:00.001+05:302009-11-17T18:42:12.221+05:30

Some nights I’d imaginethe call and my reactionrehearse saying“Dead?”harmonizelong loud ringsinsistently shredding the weaveof dream and desirechoreographthe groping danceof groggy fingersover bedside paraphernaliasoundmixthe clatter of the receiversqueak of bedspringsa groan, just for effect,then a husky“Hello?” and“Dead?”directfingers to numbphone to slow-motiondown to the carpetwhile eyes

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-18445551675819974222009-07-04T12:40:00.002+05:302009-11-17T18:39:51.284+05:30

Squeezed into the shape of painemptiness is a weightthat fills my wombAnd Icramp and clenchevery monthto see youUnborn

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-29586697303833803652009-07-04T12:39:00.007+05:302009-11-17T19:05:55.345+05:30

Benarasi bound,One silver ankletChained to the bedpostThe other gluedTo the kitchen linoleumI knot secretsIn sindur streaked hairBoil truant thoughtsOver the stoveAnd smile as the exhaustCarries the noxious fumesBeyond the lakshman-line

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-59942027922011528302009-07-04T12:37:00.002+05:302009-11-17T18:43:08.384+05:30

I see you in myhands my feet my nose my selfI miss you Papa

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-74162196444157331812009-07-04T12:35:00.002+05:302009-11-17T18:42:49.891+05:30

This is how he goesWith a bang not a whimperTraveller alwaysOne day he’ll wake upHere or there or somewhere elseIn a better place

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815649778216536908.post-32408325113968409302009-07-04T12:16:00.002+05:302009-11-17T18:42:33.126+05:30

The telephone ringsMorning begins with bad newsChristopher was shotHe lies in comaHis beloved MexicoShot him in the headOne senseless momentOne hand pointing with a gunOne life close to death

PEOPLE, PLACES, VOICES, FACES...http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915043555307038876noreply@blogger.com0