Autumn

You were economic with words as always.
A few pregnant pauses, slight whimpers
Unavoidable sighs and uncomfortable silence
Was followed by an agreement.
That it was never there.
We shook hands, smiled nervously
Gulped down our drinks
Thankful that there were no hurt feelings on either side.
It was mutually agreed upon
That bothering about the gifts would be too puerile.
I stayed a little longer to admire the new painting on your wall.
A cold winter evening descended outside your window.

While Negotiating love

“You never ask for too much from Men,

They invariably fail you”- Didi devised a smile

With one hand on her now swollen belly.

“They don’t have the power to love as much as we do, didibhai,

They can’t bear the pain of it”,

Burimashi observed as she mopped the floor.

“Sacrifice is the woman’s virtue, men can love,

But never can they sacrifice for love,”

Maa spoke as her experienced hands deftly shaped the chapaatis.

“You are always giving more than you get, why my love?

I shall tell you why. Because you are a woman,

And all women are like mothers,

And mothers always give more than they get”

You said as your fingers twisted my curls.

But I expect, I demand, and I ask for more

And I break my own heart every now and then

And I hug you and cry.

I thought it was love.
But now you tell me it was a transaction,

A lucrative one, for you, for sure.

Interim

And thus it endeth,

The longest vacation

And it was yesterday that the green grass even greener with virginal showers,

Dampened our skin

When we sat under the mighty banyan tree.

The robust sentinel concealed us in its ancient silhouette

And it seemed appropriate that you plant a sudden kiss.

The moment of trepidation transpired

With great palpitation, and a little perspiration.

We giggled.

And thus it endeth

Every time.

And now as we merrily wave adieu

I wait to catch one last glimpse

The green of your eyes

The lilac of your touch.

And there are a hundred thousand faces smiling

A thousand hands waving

The gold of the sun, the silver of the clouds

Beneath which the flames of your breath had once burned my skin

Leave lingering questions and a crimson hue.

It is not time to end my poem. Not yet.

Invisible

          New year! One step closer, one step away.
 I always thought it's pretty easy to shut out the unholy truth- pressing my palms firmly against my ears I pretend that I haven't a clue as to what's going on. Slowly the murmurs die down, the expressions change, and nature changes its course too.

             I detest resolutions. And I detest social networking. And I also detest people who (ex)claim that they looove dogs, though I do not particularly hate the species myself. Perhaps I would enjoy human life as a primitive being. Sometimes I wonder if I’m essentially hostile. May be twenty years from now, school children will call me all sorts of names and steal flowers from my garden. I look in the mirror and try to picture myself with crazy hair and brittle limbs. I think I like children, as long as they are not mine.

           I had awaited this moment, feared it, anticipated the consequences and yet approached it like the moth approaches the flames. Applying a clichéd romantic metaphor to describe the one monumental confrontation of my otherwise dreary life is not something I longed for and neither was ‘the confrontation’, a grandiose Shakespearean episode, where nature conspired with the occult and orchestrated thunderous roar and torrential downpour, preceded by a monologue. It was a ping.

             The inauspicious green dot sent streams of alarms through my body. The nervous system is exceptionally sensitive in matters pertaining to the heart. The one thought was to be ‘invisible’; the one thing that had haunted me for most of my life on campus. It was unnecessary, which I realised only much later, because I was invisible to the people on campus. Only this time there was an option- a ‘invisible’ option. Much to my surprise, it only complicated things- and also taught me a thing or two about the human psyche.

                I decided to end the relentless staring of the tumultuous one minute and a half. I blinked. Nothing changed. The green dot was still sitting pretty right on the top. It was time to put an end to this obscure complicated relationship with a chat application. I almost clicked on the ‘go offline’ option, and there it was: the life altering ping.

·         Hey!

·         Hey..

·         Ssup.. I saw u the other day..

·         I know. I saw u.

·         You’ve gained some flesh it seems.

·         Yeah.. I know.

·         You used to be quite slim

·         Yeah..

·         Blah blah blah

·         Bla bla bla

                        I was more like an invalid around him, always a non-entity. And I liked it, partly because I didn't want to stammer if he spoke to me and partly because I could stare at him without getting caught. Later at nights I would fantasise about him, about one particularly profound look of his that I caught or a funny chuckle. And even now, my increasing waistline or my receding hairline never came in the way of my imaginations with the exception of today. I felt old. It was no longer difficult to imagine myself with crazy hair and worn out limbs.

                       The naked branches of the corpse like trees will be covered in lavish foliage soon. I shall neatly arrange the pile of redundant thoughts and lock them away in a rusty box and I won’t blink. As planet earth duly completes its revolutionary circle around the blazing sun, my resolutions take shape, only to wither away in drunken fit of frenzy. I squash them beneath my spear sharp heels, as the newborn sun peeks from the horizon of a mundane world.

  

A Hasty Conclusion

I haven’t slept for an eternity

I haven’t kissed my baby to sleep in ages

I have been walking on the sharp edges of time

The soil breathes fire and the air is unpleasant.

A vast relentless stretch of unrest.

I saw an angel on the sidewalk.

Lacerated wings

She wept in crimson and blue.

And I saw lovers, sleeping together

Arms entwined

Nails digging into the skin

And a set of teeth biting purple lips.

Wrapped in plastic they waited for the highest bidder.

Is that a lake? Or is that a mortuary of desires?

Should I proceed or should I play this last game of chess?

Is it time yet? Time to conclude all games

And count the things undone!

Is this what they call redemption?

Prayer of the Ugly Frog

Do not stifle that chuckle

Do not hide your mouth in your palms

Do not brush that strand of hair behind your ear.

Do not do it so often.

I've seen too much of that coquettish fanfare.

Let it rest. Let the calm of the sea prevail.

We have crossed mountains and seas

And overcame that stony silence

Before the storm.

We let the storm destroy us before, and before that.

We made love in caves beneath the wild oceans

Where the sun does not shine and mermaids groan.

The ancient forebodings rang

Through the stalactites and the stalagmites

Before melting in the carnal fire.

Pour yourself onto me once again,

Like the tempest does to the earth

And the tides to the grains of sand.

Plant that venomous kiss again

And put me to sleep forever.

End it now and here, and release me

From this mess of a body that responds not to me,

But to a strange world where I do not belong.

Love Making

There is a rhythm in your fingers stroking my neck when we kiss.
Last night they touched me gently as you nibbled on my ear.
Brushing my chest playfully, they danced to the blues;
Your nimble fingers, they stirred upward
Sending shivers down my spine.
We were taking it slow.
Slowly the grip tightened, it made me wince
And left a dull patch on my neck,
As I, cold, drooped in profound slumber.
The music changed.