woman

you are
dazzle,

powdered
stomp of
colours,

mist dew
bright of
song,

melody
of a hum
when you
speak,

clear eyes
sparkle on
the surface,
delicate,
serene,

today you
said softly,

budge a little
in the path of  
an evening sun,
it gets into my eyes,

you shall be
the death of me,

should I be left
with words and
rhyme,

these stiff
laces of device
I call poems,

of what use
are they,

you will
not be
here,

my heart
gnaws,
twists,

caught
in perils
of desire

oh garbage
words,
you are a
beggar's
lament

be away,
let me
gaze at
her while
time benignly
spins a top,

soon it
is bound
to topple

this alphabet
string,
pearl scatter
of a necklace,

be away,
verse,

futility,

to live in
a papered
world when
loveliness
shrivels
to another
lost moment,

be away,
illusion

let me see
it as it is

her yellow
dress,

gathering
light,
her terse
shades,

her yellow
dress  

let
dreams
tarry a
little,

speckled,
hypnotized,
sunshine,  

her
yellow
dress

shall be
the death
of me

once again I
stumble on the
road eternal,

a friend stirs
my embers, I
light up again,

a distant presence
of youth, balance,
calm, possibilities

dance a riotous
rollick within,
hollering, hollering

adventure

listen
listen
closely,

even the sheets
and blankets
that you unfurl
before curling
into the night,

speak sleep.
with a hush
and a full stop.

I try
warding off
the surge,

but it has
a sea's
nature,

lurking slurp,
mouth-watering
possibilities,

skin
lodged
to skin,

lickety
suckety
spring

summer afternoon  
drifting into vision
gulmohar bloom

summer evening
does the breeze
dance or the tree?

summer bath
the shiver in
collected water

summer twilight
ma shops for
bigger buckets

summer dawn
music spills into
empty buckets

summer dusk
water tanker cuts
a snore into two

summer rain
*outstretched palm
barred window

why pluck
the jasmine
at my window...

what will I tell
the breeze,  
that go follow

its withering  
among idols
framed pictures

incense fumes  
severed plucked
presented wreath

homage to the gods,  
or will I sway the
bees, a telepathic

signboard painted
of dour directions,
none shall heed

even as petals
pucker away
toothless mouths

nibbling
nothingness...
but there!

within a clawed
green hold
a clasped

delicate
white inch of
a cold moon

jasmine,
at my
window...

to be assured
of a roof above
my head,

and a mother
who will cook
for me lovingly,

nothing is so
damning as
absolute safety,

I am the human
cat this fading
winter, wait

and I may soon
grow whiskers,
the days fling

away like speeding
scenery from a
train window,

I sing my
death song,
tomorrow,

tomorrow...

so in pure
fabled fashion,
at the battle of Haldighati (1576),

Chetak, Maharana Pratap
astride, leapt across
a gaping betwixt two cliffs

and fatally injured,
died a hero,
that

400-odd years later
the Arabian steed
stands stone-cut in Jaipur,

the Maharana
urging him on
to battle,

Chetak,
all set to go
airborne...

The island writes
To the shore,
Don't build a bridge...
I want to be a stranger
To the world's end.

Night writes
To Day,

Return at my darkest
End,
Sprinkle color of a
Temporary death,

Then at evening
I write again

The meeting place
Of two friends...

we frantic
for secretive places

a cave inlet, dim fire,
where we could claw
each other to pieces

like animals
love a distant scent,

all sweet conversation
make hunting spears
no word is meant

who preys whom
what brings us here

primitive echoes
assail our skins
habitual betrayers

ours, yours, bodies  
some lurking thirst

of centuries digs its
claws into flesh
like animals

love a distant scent...

fingers to imbibe
sculpture of a body,  
skin I will caress
drop by drop,  
cloud thy golden-
rayed spread form,

sip honey sweetness,
bee wings flapping,
steaming musk,
fireflies illumine,
on a blue valley of
an anonymous realm,
we shall alight

the words and us,
drip, globular, suckle,
kiss , ripple, river

snuffed out
the TV
blare

flung
away the
cell phone

cast aside
delusions,
vexations,

switched
off the
lights

stood in
the dark
then

ear to
its heart,
rain...

you bid the shore away,
broken bangle shapes,
the clear water makes,

your form is a magnet,
I am drawn to you,
and at this moment,

love is you

magic sweet words
tumult breathless,
teasing over others:
she spins her web,

spins intricately,
nattily: ages of
scalding have done
her in perhaps,

or stabs that refusal
brings, this is how
she is, will be, busy in
her impenetrability

a tightrope walker,
a smooth talker,
faker, giver, taker,
the silk is thick,

her clean heart
thus corrupted
she has trouble
sometimes, I

can see it in her
eyes, the distortion
of not knowing, for
those few dangling

moments, who she is,
face / mask
voice / silence
agreement / refusal

I may have persevered
I may have stayed
if only the years
weren't slipping away,

I wish neither of us
were built this way.

after years of fending Mathematics,
hiding disastrous test papers as guerrilla tactics,  

lolling in the shame of discovery,  
followed by parents' sherlockian commentary,
how they came upon the dreaded documents, accidentally,  

I thank the gods who gave writers nibs, quills, ink,  
how their tales became shields,infused life in print,

these angelic saviours from Darth Vader menace,
famed rescuers from teacher disguised fiends,
dear, beloved school education, I forgive you all your sins...

may be
we should be
standing this time

you  
a wall
and I

may be
we should be
after a shower

sipping
each other
dry of drops

may be
pretend
to sleep

then lurch
after each
other's skin

may be
start with
you on a chair

you know
it has been
a long time

days have
passed in arcs
and crosses

wicked schemes
have built
inside me

tomorrow has
an evening
to wade,
a day to
cross, twilight
to break,

may be
I will make it to the
other side of this wait,

and then tell you
how many many
other other ways
we can

may be

dog
on a
leash

used
to
it

what
is heavy
full to
the brim
let it out
smoke like
into the night
that a new
road curves
before me

A lacuna
between us,
so I bridged out an arm
across her shoulder,
made slow circles
on her bare arm,

Meanwhile
Noah built his
ship, afloat
despite its
strange design,

One could trust
Russell Crowe on
such earth-saving
matters.

When it got too much,
she plucked my stiff arm,
clasped it with her left,
lay them parallel yet
in unison between
our chairs,

Fingers finding gaps
among her fingers,

A dove flew in,
land ahoy!
it chirped.

to be
kneaded,
in squashy,
jelly ecstasy,

falling over
tumultuous,
a largess of
festivity,

woman,
not as much
as your walk,
talk or nature,

but that one
boom-rocket,
eminent, salient
feature,

lickety, suckety,
twistety, pressety,
lurety, bitety,
fever,

closety, graspety,
claspety, grabety,
clungety, playety,
severe,

twins to be
tended, a little
gorge, to lash
tongue betwixt,

to be clasped,
lurch after
each tip,
tender,

half-earths,
cast on a
potter's wheel,
sun baked,

shaped in
rain's fluidity,
winter's rigidity,
summer fire,

lover's calm,
luster's oasis,
sumptuous,
lush spread,

breeze at
a tree top,
monuments
in rhapsody...

On a mythical Mumbai weekend,
of no serene start or dubious end,
with imaginary beauties, invisible friends,

I stepped out of a puffing train,
my long unkempt hair a lion's mane,
getting used to my twitching tail,

Posing on the Gateway of India,
the extraordinary explorer pose,
took a boat to Elephanta (sans the hose),

and when my shivering co-passengers
had finished feverishly taking pictures
and started screaming holy mothers and sisters,

I took off from the starboard end,
and became the first man-lion to
cross the polluted Indian channel,

surviving to make the news channels,
my scientific name listed as a brand new mammal,
my mating call recognized as a gushing gargle,

On a mythical Mumbai weekend,
of no serene start or dubious end,
with imaginary beauties, invisible friends,

I devoured deep-kissing lovers for lunch
at Bandstand's low-tide on a hunch,
to the delicious sound of munch! munch!

even as Shah Rukh Khan watched disgusted
from his big big bungalow by the sea,
and as the city sharpshooters came after me,    

and later when they brought me down,
from Nariman Point building, like KING KONG,
I tuned a dusty guitar and sang a melancholy song,

on the death of adventure, love and reality,
dangers of delusions, lethargy and self-pity,
repression, horniness and too much TV,

down in a shower of bullets when I went,
sky like the coming of rain, godspeed, godsend,
in a mythical city, where nothing is really meant,

On a mythical Mumbai weekend,
of no serene start or dubious end,
with imaginary beauties, invisible friends...

once in a while go hither,
where man hasn't choked earth to tar

once in a while go thither,
where flowers sway golden, buds ajar

once in a while ponder,
trees helicoptering a stray, twirling shape

once in a while dash out,
away from gloomy computer haze,

once in a while stroll aimless,
down a narrow, dark mysterious lane

once in a while gauging,
the  kite's whirling escapades

once in a while go hither,
where Frost chose a less traveled path

once in a while go thither,
where you desire but hesitate in act

once in a while on a calm night,
when you go cascading on a dream

once in a while when years,  
have withered you to skeletal bane

all your once-in a-whiles shall  
gather, beehive heavy and clean  

once again you shall step out,  
awash in roaring wondrous sheen...

No
land **!
for you.

Doomed
expeditions,
oblivion,

Only
a wreck's
inevitability,

Yet
soggy,
dogged,

Your
floating
cheer,

Echoes
in childhoods
infinite,

At water's
origin, paper's
invention...

where oh did I lose that cascade,
passion-o-heart, madness...

clear skied simplicity in dreams,
shut-eyed wonderment in breeze,
where oh did I lose that cascade,
passion-o-heart, madness...

moonlit on an edgy path,
naked-foot on winter grass,
wild wolfish laughter howl,
crackling fire, songs aloud,

where oh did I lose that cascade,
passion-o-heart, madness...

treasures bestowed by a wise friend,
much that I heard and not heed,
a life allowed to be swept away,
million work hours on a morbid chair,  

where oh did I lose that cascade,
passion-o-heart, madness...

I so love this leisurely life,
hence the disdain for
marriage and wife

but if such calamity were
to befall and I find myself
hungry, sweaty, tired

in a dining hall, while
the guests have a ball,
let it be then, that my

pretty partner has gaol
bird thoughts, who doesn't
stand compromised, sad

imposed nonsense of
any sort, when I take
her hand, ask her if we

can flee, she wouldn't
care a hoot and simply
heed the call, I am

looking for a runaway
then, not a wife, one
who loves the trees,

breeze, road bends,
adventures, loves to
take solitary walks and

may be meet her husband
sometimes, just because
she feels the need, I am

not looking at all, for a
society-accepting, drab,
tradition-obeying being,

I am not looking for a
wife, after all, because I
so love this leisurely life

we could be lovers instead

here's to
streams travels wheel trees

here's to
kettle fumes dunes blues

here's to
hammocks ruffled hair loose clothes

here's to the free ebb

Goa Goa Goa
a whisper on my lips

Goa Goa Goa
way she moves her hips

Here at this drab desk
On a drab drowned day

Goa Goa Goa
sings the wind in my hair

a rain is falling,
on the crack’d earth

a rain is teasing,
on the dancing us

how do we return this present,  
this overwhelming love,
endless kisses you shower,
in your every drop

a rain is calling,
on a thunder drum

a rain is singing,
come, ye all come

look the well is swell,
bare earth rustle green again,
how an elusive peacock cries
out the rain's endless names,

a rain is bending,
the mighty banyan tree

a rain is chasing,
cobra, ants and bees

how the sea rages in anarchy,
its heart is majestic today

cling of old things vanish,
in a flowing disarray

a rain is falling,
on the cracked earth

a rain is teasing,
on the dancing us

summer stubs out
its **** ember end,

out it goes in
an ember glow,

grey-blankets
wrap the skies,

and a tree attires
itself in new clothes...

flowers bloom, wither,
yet there is a bud anew,

youth once lost is regret,
wrinkled, folded, askew

three
days

among rafts
trees rivers
lakes streams
waterfalls

I walk the
fear-infested
office floors
like a king

nothing troubles
me, wade over
grim swell and
fatal seriousness

as I float on my back,
spread arms, feet,  heart,
a cloud has another helping
of an azure sky

oh give it any name,
a martyr, king,
clown, fighter,
warrior, film star,
singer, cricketer...

but tell me
that the road
will last
this monsoon,

that it will not
soon resemble
the great craters
of the moon,

that you will
not dig up here,
suddenly
remembering
about some
buried gold...

tell me, will
I ever say-
*"let us walk
down our
good old
road again"

have sieved the
ruins of discarded
things,

sometimes finding
in an old magazine,
women looking
through you
with ageless eyes

block square keys of
a typewriter,
cardboard covers
of fragile messages,
images of shattering
glass,
empty bottles of
RAT POISON,

‘Kamasutra for beginners'
‘The lonely wife’
other clandestine
books, sometimes,
extracted from some
secret wardrobe chamber,
wrapped in brown paper

school notebooks with
red tick-marks, blots, rights,
wrongs, devastating
stories of marks, homework,
a light bulb that still works,
the legs of a chair,
toy horses, toy cars,
scratched plastic

gaping holes in mugs,
buckets, fake notes
from a crumpled game
of monopoly,
a chewed dog's collar,
a heavy rusted *****,
every night in my dreams,
they come hopping over a barn,
now you know,
that I do not count sheep

unheeded as they live
quietly by themselves
easy smiles flowing
banter chatter of
familiar things,

anything out of the
ordinary troubles
them for days after,
furrowed foreheads,
hushed exteriors,

slowly then life
seeps back to
their features,
that engaging goodwill
of generations,

of gentle demeanour
fragile as glass yet
companions affable,
little whiffs of honey
to the human hive,

a vine wall pattern
tribal's thumping
multi-drum song,
unassuming in
celebration,  
    
in the world's
gather, among
greed-gathering
plush pushing
***** blokes

soft spread gentle
wounded crumpled
sing-song trample
firefly twinkle
simple people...

fire-breathing scalderer,
honey-gathered heavy,
your bow lip is

wild thy raven tress,
make turbulent seas,
ravenous claws

gently in the heat,
go floating, our
flesh embers!

I love slow,
not snailish,
random acts,
but where one is
relieved, revealed

in their yawn and
stretching of limbs,
a little scratch
in the ribs,
stomach

like an animal
absently fluffing
up fur...
a spread of charm,
wayward hair

strand curled
curled to a spiral,
deep guttural sigh
of a woman asleep
over her lush hair

or walking quietly
under the trees
trance-gazing
a stray cotton seed,
helicoptering dry leaf,

squirrel run...
I love slow,
gentle sidestep
dance to it,
revolve of

lissome waist to music,
liquid spread
in a hot pan,
still breath
between kisses

sea waves licking
up the feet,
slithering afar,
time nibbling
away...

how it descends
parachuting an
expansive heart,
soft whose arrows are...

to get drenched
is our choice, not
the sky's victory
or defeat; bliss...

a bridge betwixt
ether, earth, of a
peacock's throat,
dripping song...

stand still
let me consider you,

a whole month of
acquaintance blazed
in the rush of embraces,
but now that much is
quelled, calm,

stand still,
let me consider you...

the cuckoo still sings
over the traffic smoke,
children still carve
forts by the sea,

gulmohars still bloom
over the widening road,

you could still stir early,
jog through frozen silences,
travel for an hour, still
bathe under a waterfall,

walk up a ruined hill fort,
watch the falling of meteors,

you could still save yourself,  
here in this decay and filth,
you could dig up a little earth,
and ply a little ***** on it,

feed it like a little child,  
and make a tree out of it...

and when the
fierce rays
canvas across

my face, I know
that loneliness
is only a myth,

among trees,
there is none
as benign as

the sun

just sitting here
with stiff legs
a stone face

when I swivel
it is to swivel
at a single place  

not going anywhere
am your swivel chair
not going anywhere
am your swivel chair

have long stopped longing
for adventure and smiles
have discarded all things
that enlivened me inside  

have no life, do not care
am not going anywhere
am your swivel chair

you look like me
I look like you

each passing year
we just wait here
for no person
for no place
for all things to
magically change

like two brothers
rusting together
like two brothers
rusting together  

just sitting here
with stiff legs
a stone face

when I swivel
it is to swivel
at a single place  

am not going anywhere
am your swivel chair
am not going anywhere
am your swivel chair

all those in favour
of the weekend
say aye

AYE!

All those not in
favour of
the weekend
say nay
-
-
-

HURRAY!

The
AYES
have
it!

come and see,
come and see,
the night is free,

even if the
years have
melted in

candle wax,
a stir of a
song and

they still
dance to
it's beat

feet...

the night is you,
you are the night

dark as thy tress,
deep as your eyes,

as the sea roars over
a lost bird's frantic cries,

the night is you
you are the night