Remember me
when you drink the water here
and find yourself
all drained of colour

The sand flits out from under your feet
you’re running out of time
and the energy to run

Then you shall know who I am
and that here
I have no address

each of my poems is a commencent address,
depending on the day, the time or place,
either an ending or a beginning

a moment unique, we mark a changing,
by tossing/losing a hat we’ll never wear again,
or picking up a shovel to bury a parent
in earth and casket we cannot share

an operating room, shiny clean, with mercurial microbes
awaiting a new arriving inhabitant, to defend and attack,
or bidding farewell to a elder child born blood-deformed,
whose wingspan shortened by virtue of our own gene-rosity

commence the commencement.

take the iron from the grotesque irony,
the steel from the stealing away seconds,
the hum from the humble mumbling,  a disbelieving refusal,
the tears from the skin-rent tearing just
beginning a speech for the occasion and
ending with a prayer standing, by a gravestone

when you awake today, prepare a commencement
or a commence-not address

People   saying
my  girlfriend's
address ?

Before     asking
to    sky,  sea,
or
the  engineers  of
a  newly   constructed  
sea-links.
People  are
saying  my
girlfriends  address.


Some  saying -She   is  in
U.S.

Some  saying-
She  is  married
to  another
reputed  person.


Some  saying-
She  is  working
with her
  previous  job.

People  are
  saying  my
old  girlfriend's
address  ?

Someone please take me to Dreamland.
Put me on the fastest flight,
'Cause while you slept and slumbered sweetly,
I was wide awake all night.
So if you know the way to Dreamland,
Put the address in my brain,
So I can journey on to find it,
Somewhere where my world is sane.

I will give you a list houses
that once used to be my home
and addresses that are the only memory
that has not been blurred
or manipulated by my mind.
If you ever want to find me,
go there.


You will see the line of trees that
framed my sunrise
and almost dry riversbeds of
round white stones, where
I slipped once (or more).
You will see the duststorms,
and the heavy rains
I stood in.
You will see the the intersections,
I could never quite cross.
But all this you see,
is not me.



If you want to find the ‘me’,
‘me’ that I do not know of,
that I cannot give you,
go there.
And look for windows I sat by.
Look for the cold floor I lied on.
Sit there and think of a girl
who never felt quite like a person,
who could look at what lay ahead
and know
that neither the path, nor the journey was hers.
Who only wanted a room flooded with
gentle light of drowning sun,
and songs that could make her sadness beautiful.

अब ख़त के ज़वाब नहीँ आते,
पता नहीं क्या बदला है?
पता या लोग?
Now letters are not responded,
Don't know what changed?
Address or addressee?

ख़त के ज़वाब नहीँ आते,
पता नहीं अब क्या बदल गया है?
उनका पता या वो लोग?
letters are not being responded,
I Don't know what is changed now?
Their Address or addressee themselves?