Sunday, June 26, 2005
Do greet him or her warmly for me
These days it feels like
warm feet under a quilt
Like the smell of incense
in a temple I escape to regularly
Like furious sex with
an unknown man in a dream
and like a flying kiss from
a four year old boy
That's what it feels like
but is it?
Thursday, June 23, 2005
I'll just tell you about the one I had today...
I was going in an auto with anshuman then we stopped and got out. He gave me his cell phone and we parted ways. I came to this place with buildings on both sides. Suddenly a girl, my neighbour from Delhi gave me chocolate slice cake wrapped in cellophane... apparently it's her birthday. I'm surprised at first and then I take it.
And then I get thirsty ( in real life I always carry a bottle of water with me) I come to a shop which is a strange place. Everything is kept in the basement and you have to talk to the shopkeeper from a window on the first floor. I ask for water and at first he doesn't seem to listen because there are a lot of people... then I try to mouth the words ' Bisleri '. He tries to sell me all sorts of things... rice, chips but never seems to get to the water... and then finally another friend from school comes and yells at him which gets his atention and I get water. Both of us turn around and start walking away and I realise I have forgotten my cake. I go back to find one of my seniors, a girl from school eating it... only four slices are left. I try to take it away from her but she resists so I slap her and take my cake.
Then My friend and I walk towards home in Delhi and I take out Anshuman's phone because i want to call him but then I realise it's his phone I'm holding so he is without one... I woke up
Moral of the dream. Never forget your cake otherwise someone else will eat it!!
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
A woman in a shop full of shoes
And what’s your story I want to know
The young little one with delicate fingers
he cuts the old man’s hair every month
Year after year
The Boss of his own small shop of marble cutters
He chats up the clients
and duly reprimands the assistant
‘Take what’s needed then just let me go’ Says Suzanne
Majestic old Banyan lowers his arms to hold me
Oh he’s tied up with nylon ropes and electricity wires I see
Ah the wheels are set in motion
I’m on my way home with Suzanne
Another barber sleeping in his reflection
We stop again
Suzanne sings the background score of a lonely actress
on an upset video screen
I wait and the sun decides to shine on a red roof
I want to wave to someone
But there’s no one here that I know
I’ll wait a few hours to say hello
A beautiful woman child dressed in black clothes and umbrella
How many things does she have to be afraid of?
The small town finally says Goodbye
“If you ever get the time...come again” It says
“ and if you don’t...that’s fine too”
Mixed smells of fruits and cooking oils
“ Go ahead...move along...run with the winds’ It says
This town of youth, hotels, hostels and insurance companies
A beautiful victorian facade set against straight lines
Mother Mary is still holding her child
This is a good time to miss the love of my life
Lip service for Suzanne...I love it
“Bring to you...anything “ She says
She knows what I want
She knows what I need
She sings for me
Watercolours with rain and a glow sign
Yes it all fits...this is where I belong
With Suzanne, On my way home
That boy who loved me in school
was in that building for a few forgotten years
Where is he?
Neatly maintained buildings live with the ones under construction
Couples at the edge of town hiding behind hanging roots
Hey your bike’s shut down and I so wanna help you out
But I’ve got to leave this town
The clouds are departing with grey suitcases...
They’re kissing the hills Goodbye...
Sunshine gets the green signal
My hair play with my eyes
Toll taxes and purple pipes in the middle of my roads
A single crow flies and doesn’t care if I leave it behind
Drizzle kisses my face in bunches
Yellow flowers at equal interludes
Heavens in the hills
That man under a large yellow plastic cone
The poorest of them all
Walks in the heavens
Supported by a wooden stick
Parallel roads seperated by flowers
A smashed car...did someone die in heaven?
Is that the same crow again?
Reborn from the tunnels of darkness
Waterfalls greet Suzanne
The clouds move again...
It’s the wedding procession of the Queen in waiting
All streams flow into the town sprinkled in the valley
I’m on my way home with Suzanne.
This poem was written on my way back from Pune to Mumbai. I was listening to Suzanne Vega and she was singing about a friend of hers that tried to commit suicide. The song was beautiful and so was the journey. Enjoy the poem!
Sunday, June 05, 2005
I haven't been writing much lately... I used to write incessantly in my journal but I stopped doing that... what can I say life took over... I still carry my journal with me everywhere I go but I don't write in it... At least in the last two months I haven't written anything... The last thing I wrote was Prayer to the unnamed.
Now I read incessantly... I read all the time... I read only fiction... strangely I haven't read much poetry except Pablo Neruda... actually that's all I've read... My concern has never been for the style of writing... I don't like big words...
I'd like to say thanks to everyone who took the trouble to comment on my poems... it makes me truly happy... I would be happier still if the anonymous people would come out of the shadows and tell me who they are!!
Last but not the least do keep coming around... I will try to be more regular in updating my blog...