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.

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.

चेंबूर अग्निशमन केन्द्रच्या समोर
एक पिल्लू पहिल्यांदा
उडी मारतं
त्याची आई इकडे तिकडे वळते
कोणी बघितली का तिच्या चिमुकल्याची
पहिली उडी
माझी बस जणू या दृश्यासाठी
वेग कमी करते
आणि माझ्या चेहऱ्यावर
छोटंसं का होई ना
हसू उमटतं

The shady bar aesthetic
is for select people
who enjoy the steel tables
which could’ve easily been
in a hospital somewhere
and dim yellow lights
that make photographs look
cool
and the smell of dhoop
disguised as a blessing
from some God somewhere.
Because faith is weird.

प्यार चुन चुन के करती हूँ
कभी तुम्हारे आँखों से
जिसमें मिट्टी बहती है
कभी तुम्हारी बातों से
जो ख़ुद में मशरूफ़ रहती हैं
कभी तुम्हारे हाथों से
जो ज़ुल्फ़ों को सहलाते हैं
कभी तुम्हारे होठों से
जो ग़ुस्सा पिघलाते हैं
और कभी तुम्हारी धड़कन से
जो वक़्त को रोक लेती है

Every time I visit my nani
Aai has a new memory to tell.
This time it was about
a tree
in the building compound.
It has existed, lived
for longer than Aai has.
Blooming, yellowing, eventually
going barren,
and then growing again.
It  has stood there,
watching, giving, supporting
the children playing around it.
It stands there now,
with the adults
watching, giving, supporting
it,
recounting its life
intertwined with their own
and coming full circle.