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 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!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Parul, what can I the middle of the rat race, sitting in the lunch room of this capitalist took me a place that I visit sometimes in my dreams but often in my thoughts...but refrain from feeling it, lest it will bring back memories and I have to hold back to live this 'facade' we call life.Thanks ! - Veenu