A Monginis Cake Shop flex hangs
above a hardware and electronics store
and a man in front of it
speaks loudly into his phone,
trying to explain this his location,
slapping the other hand on his forehead.
Another man, this one on a scooter
going slower than a public transport bus
has his helmet resting in the front
between his feet
instead of on his head.
(Is this blatant disregard for life
or staggering confidence about it?)
An old Nauvari-clad woman
bearing a big vermillion stain on her forehead
innocently spits her paan on a
Clean Mumbai, Green Mumbai graffiti.
I get up to go stand
at the front door
and someone else takes my seat.
They will see a skinny girl
typing furiously into her phone
this very poem.
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 12:50 PM UTC
side hugs are like
performative wokeness;
shallow, flaky, meaningless
convenient, censored -
appealing, yes?
appeasing, too, i guess.
but no
i demand the real deal
furnish me with both arms
disregard my weak frame,
i promise, i wont break
let me have it
im not a snowflake
just a girl who
likes to take
on the world
with hugs
as her weapon of choice.
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 1:52 AM UTC
I. I am not used to silence.
It is always elusive,
elsewhere.
It’s at that table
the one that’s awkward
and uncomfortable
and unsettling
to the others.
II. I look for silence -
at the next table, lurking?
It hides in plain sight;
but why I can’t hear it?
III. Silence finds me
puzzled, pacing
I want to demand
...something -
but something else seems to stop me.
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 12:59 PM UTC
i'll tell you something, cat.
right now,
i just don't know where i'm at -
emotionally speaking,
everything is confusing
exhausting
testing, my patience
trying to teach me some lesson?
but i just want to be.
like you, you kn-
where'd you go?
seriously? seriously.
that dead yellowing half-eaten leaf
is more interesting than me.
okay.
guess i'll just be here
still talking
cat-less.
Mar 30, 2019
Mar 30, 2019 at 12:18 PM UTC
It’s one of those
nights, right -
The remnants of rain
bouncing off the train
door
More
water on the seats
neatly left alone,
no glances thrown.
Tired women catching up
on each other's days
and work,
giving in to sleep
one by one,
until I’m the only one
up,
gasping
at the deafening wind.
It’s a new world
when the train stops
and the wind drops.
So my feet take me
home.
It’s one of those nights
Every night.
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 12:03 PM UTC
आज मला यायला जमलं नाही
पण तुला माझी आठवण आली ना?
समुद्र तू असशील रे
पण बाप तर माझाच आहेस ना?
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 12:07 PM UTC
Playing rummy is a lot like music.
Rules to guide you
A pure sequence to bind you
Leeway otherwise, to slide by
A pile to dig from
A companion to play with
(or against?)
And a purpose
to find.
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
I pull my suitcase out
from under the bed
hoping to pack away
the baggage I have been carrying
everywhere.
On it, I see
is a cat
asleep
probably dreaming:
her paws come together
and part
in a rhythm
as if in prayer.
And I think
I'll carry the baggage along
for one more day.
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 1:08 PM UTC
A wave
reaches the shore
noisily, impatiently, predictably
The silence
in the moment
that it turns around,
leaves the shore
proves that goodbyes
are so much heavier
than hellos.
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 1:56 PM UTC
_back_
Wind hisses. Water runs. Leaves rustle. Bees buzz. Roosters cuckoo.
_forth_
Bird takes flight. Napkin falls from the string. Cat jumps from a 7-foot door. Man splashes water on face.
_back_
Almost-ripe mangoes. Jackfruit cut open. Garlic tadka in ghee. Just-washed hair.
_forth_
Cool wooden swing. Fly hovers over my skin. Strand of hair against my face. Hot tea almost burns tongue.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 12:59 PM UTC