Thursday, December 27, 2012

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.


Sunday, December 16, 2012

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.

Monday, December 10, 2012


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.