Malabar Monsoon on a Cold Winter Evening in Delhi

From the other side of the glass window

The city looked at her with indifference

Her hands had carried the cold from outside
 numb to the welcoming warmth

Gloves were meant to be forgotten

Her solitude was quickly forgiven

By the generous occupants of the room

As they returned to their cups and conversations

The walls were sketched by a wondering hand

Little slips in the lines, his only signatures

In a corner, Ghalib confessed his love for Dilli

Beside his musings, she took her seat

The calligraphy, done a little over enthusiastically

Made the words difficult to read

Ornamentation beneath its tedious cloaks

Buried the simplicity of things

“Have a look at our menu ma’am,

We have the best coffee from around

the World.”

So for her simple cup of brew

She flew over Jamaica, Brazil, Austria,

Norway, Cuba and Canada

Before coming back and resting on her own shores

“Malabar Monsoon!”

“Our very own.. excellent coastal flavours ”

The world was constantly escaping

Into another

Snatching away little moments

To spend with themselves

Tasting a different life

She was waiting for monsoons

In the midst of a haughty winter

Reading a novel set in Tehran             

While breathing the fogs of Delhi

A polite interruption of the French pot

Dived headlong into her pensive state

She poured in her cup

The blissful refuge

In its bitterness, she dissolved her scars

Poisoned all her lies

But some truth died as well

Because she couldn't always tell

One from another.

After the warmth returned to her palms

And the cup returned to the kitchen

After the smile returned to her lips

And she returned home to herself

Her soul’s bare feet still wet

Kissed by Malabar monsoons

While she has walked on its rainbow shores

Leaving no footprints behind.

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The Rise

Just Once

Let me make a song of every breath

Weave a little light into my soul

Braid happiness into the whims of my hair

Allow myself a smile

The one that I thought I could never afford

Search for a pair of warm hands

To bless my coldness away

Make a coat of ivory clouds

To wear on my way to the heavens

Let me dance to the harps of a cherub

Or to the flute of Gokul's prince

Let the rains kiss my forehead

And whisper little sonnets

Laugh with me till we can love no more

And wash my tears away

Tell no one

It would be our secret to keep

Let me wash the mirrors

and learn to look in them again

To know that I and she that I look at 

were never the strangers we thought 

each other to be

Let her eyes say just once

You're beautiful

and let mine smile and accept it.

Just once.

Something

No verse to touch, No prose to hold

My part succumbs in the play

No days to feel, no nights to hurt

Whisk all my prayers away

On a black square I stand

With a white beside me

The truth I will push away

And the lie will hide me

Drowned to death and still awake

To keep one promise forlorn

Rise to hold the morning's throne

A million times reborn

When enough cold will seep through

The warmth will return

And smoldering hopes burst into flames

To breathe again and burn

Today the song is beautiful

Tomorrow it would sleep

To gift a smiling moment

Your's forever to keep

One verse to touch, One Prose to hold

To all the parts I play

Unwritten still the author's work

And moulded in wet clay.