Category Poetry

India

Listen, India is not a woman let alone a benevolent mother draped in the tricolour, head crowned, Palm stretched to bless those who shun her femininity in all other forms. India is dark and dusty, It exists, at once, In…

Semi Colons

Self Portrait From sunny days to thunderstorms, I am —All that is in between. Spring Spring And a song —Nests in the cuckoo’s heart. Autumn The sigh of a single leaf on the ground —Autumn has passed by. Letters Same…

Game of Choice

It’s a game of choices Play first And know the rules In the end. Choose Either. The stifling haven of relations The bracing awe of solitude The lively clamour of man’s world The deadly silence within days and nights The…

And then one day

His hands had held, had wiped the tears. His eyes had smiled, grown wistful, cleared. His strength, his love had held me up Against those twists, those turns of life. And then one day It all grew still. My heart…

Capricious

If they tell me all women love writing poems featuring cats, I’d hiss and spit and scrape their tongues out for being presumptuous fools lumps of scrounging lead I have no pet cats I dream of one a cat there…

How poor are the poor

How poor are the poor? Seek you the truth or brooding soul? How illegitimate are the poor? How beautiful, how profane? What do you know of the colour Of disequilibrium? Vagrant like Fragrance in a whirlwind. Beauty as proposition must…

Fragments

I start to write fragments as much to myself as to another. (Who lives in my mind? Can the mind hold its hope?) I want to write: The trees are bursting into bloom. I felt it, though it did not…

Bonsai

I took pride in being a Bonsai Shrub, well nurtured, In a costly pot, kept inside, Sometimes out in the sun light, To inhale and exhale, not to Open the e yes and look around; “Don’t, don’t, look, but don’t…

Loving a Woman

To love a woman is to resurrect her from stone, to fondle her from head to toe until her blood, frozen by curse is warmed by a dream. To love a woman is to turn her soot-laden day into a…

To Sita

Sita, I shall not weep for you l have no compassion for you I believe You are the cause Of all our endless pain Your chastity, Your insistence on a one-man relationship, Your jumping into the fire, Your final disappearance…

Nazm

I’ve found that men who wear perfumes Stink of insensitive relationships And dead courtesies. Tell them Beyond the horizons of the knowledge of words There is a wilderness If you enter that wilderness Wearing this same spirit based fragrance In…

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