It was 3:30 in the morning
The aunt died, heart attack they said.
I only have a pale memory of her
The pink-house, protest and abuse.
Grandfather plucked us from there
the next day
The pink hibiscus my mother planted
did not depart.

She is dead today
I went to see her in black clothes,
The house, an empty aluminium box-
With kids playing ‘ring around the roses’,
Uncles debated politics and aunts gossiped
And some moaned inside.
I waited outside with few strange women,
They asked me questions
plenty of them
The anti-social me smiled.

The morning was usual
Mother made noises in the kitchen
with her steel plates and old radio,
Father forgot the fish on his
green kinetic honda,
Cats had a feast that evening
I did yoga, read newspaper and did-
not take a wash.

The dead body arrived late noon
in an ambulance with her expatriate son.
There was a sudden burst of cry-
inside- her daughter and grandchildren.
She looked like the fish to me,
The fish my father brought that morning
from the market, cold and dead.
Her daughter’s cry reminded me of-
an elapsed day in my pink house.

My father kept pink flowers on her feet
and prayed
I did not move, sat with the same chitchatting
women
The chanting became loud and it reverberated.
The body was finally taken to the fire
My mother came late, she wept.
The body burned down in minutes,
Dear relatives decamped.

I sat on the same chair
with my cousins
drawing the family tree, locating stories
and laughed over family jokes.
Then we sat tight lipped with brandy fumes
and cashews.
I came back home with my father
in the green kinetic honda,
I looked for the fish and the cat
I could not find both.

When the world spins, you look around and wonder
Who you are and where you belong?
And the whole world seems upside down.
The meaningless existence and angst
And the little scare around you
That makes you doubtful about the tomorrows.
I know this feeling
Because I was not myself with my sun sign
I was new, a totally different me
I tried to quit remembering
But I just can’t stop thinking that flows into me
It took me to unknown grounds, crowded towns and deep narrow lanes.
Alienation is not being alone
But the haunting strangeness of your thought process
And the feeling that comes along with it
To run away from the phony society
And seek an asylum in solitude.
We have a special thief inside us
A hunter who could grab our heart and body
And leave the motionless torso to wander in reality
Why shall I be forsaken?
I cannot trespass my broken images
They make a clear picture and meaning sometimes.
This pluviophile is lost today
With the intuition she felt so deep,
There is no recovery from this sentimental thrill
And she is happy with this madness!

When you’re off the shore there is an empty recap,
The mind who fell from the moon
And thoughts that struck the deepest of the depths
With memories and stories and a whole lot of emotions
Streams a new location for this resonating soul.
When the rooms get smaller and the boundaries –
Make no sense, there is the field you spoke about
We can go back, sip some tea and talk endless
Till the morning breeze kisses the red spot of your sky.
We were total strangers until the first lazy scribbles
But you spoke of bamboos and the music that flowed
With similarities and glee coupled with few lines of poetry
That you made me realize, life is worth living.
I know your son, your mom, your wife, your dad
I know your little girlfriend and your dear little diary
And I know the person who is ageless and nameless,
I know my friend, you are someone unusual.
When it rains, I know you’re coming to talk about-
Ganges, journeys and cravings and feel so excited
When you get the touch, that somebody is there
Destined to share the same feeling and the exact thrill
Of every moment and cherish memories.
Let us go back to the days- you the song and I the poet
And our days that we never shared
But we will someday meet at your ranch
Talk endless without the distress of judgement
And walk a little longer and paint red, red and white,
You can drive me home and I can drive you to endless letters.

Sand castles and the noise of the water hitting the rocks,
Shells and the sand grains that carols the summer dusk,
There was laughter and memories and the endless- restless sea
There was him walking on the coast with prayers on his lips.

He doesn't know who he is, he was in quest of peace
He had a scar which haunted him, but was lucky-
To dye it with music and holy rites and endless dreams
He’s the holder of the thread of his kites today and he’s flying.

You’ll not rot and rust and return back heaven like dust
You’ll sing the songs, long exiled master pieces of yours
You’ll heal insomniacs, meaningless souls and corrupts
You’ll be what you always wanted to be, a happy man.

You were a stranger yesterday and today a pal
Tomorrow you’ll be remembered for the footprints-
Melodies, conversations and your 200 year old piano
You’ll be missed someday, but today you’re my friend!

What am I in search of?
I don’t know.
This insomniac was in quest
Of an answer or maybe
An asylum for my lunacy,
I walked aimlessly,
I searched down the tracks-
Of the water that fell from my eyes,
They didn't answer.
What is it?

I got wish threads and stood frozen
Tangled what to wish for and
Walked back with an empty heart,
A confused mind and a lost sensibility.
I don’t know what I want from life,
I know I’m in quest of something-
Which I cannot name.
What is it?

There is no place in the world
There is no air to inhale
I’m living, I’m counting, and I’m waiting
But I don’t know for what this living-
Counting and waiting is for.
What is it?

Temple bells, Qwaali and Candle lights
Made no meaning, they killed me
‘They’ told me I will find solutions but,
What is it?

What am I in search of?
What is it?

You are there, everywhere
I smiled, laughed, cried and jumped in glee
You were there, I didn't even grasp the hole.
When the moon hit the stars
I hurdled my balcony and saw the-
Chain of lights, those and movement and I
Sensed you about, I spoke to you,
Your husky voice and hands perfectly mine.
How many times did I pass your thoughts?
Do you know you evoke memories in the-
Strangest junctions of my bursting imaginations?
I know the place, somewhere around the corner
Unoccupied by me, I willfully ignored your future
And now I think I should clasp if forever as mine!
I walked slowly so that I could walk with you
I caught glimpses of you and you smiled.
In those longest nights I thought of salvation
You pierced my eyes and held me with meaning.
I thought I’ll seize you next life in the banks of Sarayu
But dis-remembering you this life is so impossible.
Do you remember the days you made no sense to people-
Around us and then you looked my way and sighed.
There are million little things I want to tell you
You were an illusion that happened to me, a magic!
Today I know this me, consciously and unconsciously
Envisaging you.
There’ll be one day this poem reaches you
And when you read I can see you, beyond the walls you are
I can feel you, the peculiar scent and the breeze you carried
Let us walk together to the world we spoke to paint life
Where we can be happy with each other!

I’ve been waiting for so long,
On the road that never ends
Migrating between seasons to my
Pastoral lands north and south
Searching for your unfamiliar face
In forest foothills, swarming buses
And basins next to the Ganges.
I can wait till the moon hits the sea
The time- till you come, till you come.

Flashing lights, chiming bells,
Inscent sticks and a peculiar charm-
You carried, they said.
But you’re flesh and blood for me
Truth and reality knotted between
My garland of jasmine flowers.
I can wait with full heart and glistening eyes
Till you come, till you come.

There is no haste, I’m anticipating an upcoming
There is no starry blanket or mount chariot
But there are fireflies and a summer sun
Playing peekaboo with my shadow
Behind the mangrove forest
Envisaging your ticket to this world.
A crew of lasses claims and expects you
But you’re beyond love they could conceive.
Let the world scream, cry and yell
I still can wait till you come, till you come.

You’re a friend, philosopher and guide
I adore, worship and awaits your arrival.
Merchant ladies who walked my hut
Asked me all day to keep a ghee lamp
I lit a thousand lamps and still you dint-
Walk my shed. This life is not long enough
To witness thy face, eternal and mysterious
I can wait till you come, till you come.

The journey is beautiful, endless and offhand,
Walking through lanes strangely acknowledged
But there’s a feeling familiar still so odd.
The walk is not to say good bye but it’s a quest,
A prayer to reach your mountain nest.
There is the world- cirrus and starry nights
I can escape for the time forever from tides-
That counts the time- to the unknown!
I can’t wait, till you come, till you come.