If I had to describe you, I’d describe you as a short Summer
Fact one: I hated Summer.
My most distant memories were that, I feared summer.
The heat intimidated me.
My mom took me out to the beach once on a warm Summer.
She, herself, had mixed feelings about summer.
Then, I clanged on to her so hard because the Sun refused to look away from me.
Mom made the night rise earlier.

Fact two: You came and went.
I heard people talk.
Summer meant fun.
Fun meant drugs.
Drugs meat jail, I learnt later.
Which is where you went hiding in Autumn, Winter and Spring.

Fact three: Summer always complains.
When I refused to answer Summer’s calls to go hiking, Summer would constantly message me to come out to go for a swim.
When I tell Summer that I hated the Sun, he’d weep about how I loved all but him.
How can I love the Sun when my name means Shooting Star?

Fact Four: I don’t have one.
Insignificantly,
Shooting Star,
Your only daughter.

you carried me in your womb
for not 9 months but 5
i came early and
had you worried although
everyone told you i would
not survive here i am as your miracle

you remind me of a flower blooming
and blossoming once you are
showered with love and affection
but also wilting and dying
due to all the stress and hardships you have encountered in your life
and yet you still manage to
blossom again because
you are an amazing flower

you are the strongest woman
i know you have gone through
so much in your life as a
mother, daughter, and wife
and i admire you for that
you have always been there
for me through thick and thin
and i am blessed to call you my mother

Before my mum died, I never really took naps.

Couldn’t really understand it,
there was so much else you could do.

But then she died,
and it was just before midday
and I realised -
there’s so much day left.

It stretched on and on in front of me,
hours and hours of this same day,
still waiting.

So I went upstairs,
I told the people that needed to know,
and I went away for a while.

I woke back up in time for an evening meal
with an extended family filled with love
and a sister returned from work
and a phone beeped full of support.

And it’s been two years,
and the days stretch on
and still, almost every day now, I go away for a wee while.
Skip just a little bit,
every day.

I wonder if I should stop
Would my mum approve?
Probably not.

Maybe I’ll try tomorrow,
but still,
it’s late in the evening now.
Time to go to sleep,
Goodnight

कौन होते है आप
घूर कर उसको देखने वाले
कपड़ों पर उसके भौंकने वाले
सोच को थोड़ी खुद की सुधारो
आंखो की हैवानियत ,बाहर निकालो
निकलेगी खुद की भी बेटी एक दिन
इन्हीं बेशरम सड़कों पर
तब सवाल होगा तेरा खुद से
क्या सलामत लौटेगी वो घर पे ?
जा कर मंदिर में आप जो
ढोंग हजारों रचते हो
लक्ष्मी दुर्गा का नाम बोल कर माथा अपना रगड़ते हो
देवी समझ कर ही बंद कर दो तुम
ये हवस अश्लीलता का व्यापार
वरना विनाश को तेरे धर लेगी वो मां काली का अवतार
एक सुंदर तस्वीर है वो ,अस्तित्व लेने दो उसे
एक ख्वाब है वो ,पूरा होने दो उसे
एक खुशी है वो ,खुल कर हसने दो उसे
एक सितारा है वो ,चमकने दो उसे
खुदा की खूबसूरती है वो,
सिर्फ लड़की नहीं किसी की बहन
किसी की बेटी है वो
जीने दो उसे ।।

#साकार

And when you notice your daughter’s clothes change
-shirts to crop tops,
her blue jeans to ripped jeans,
scuffed shoes and all-
remember how good you felt in them, too.
The tearing of fabrication can be liberating.
And if she’s lost, doesn’t know how to make things new,
Show her.
And be new.

There is a little flower
Sat in front of me
Purple and delicate
It tilts its head in pity

As it watches in forever silence
At my scarily endless tears
At my gagging devastation.
The realisation of my fears.

I'm thinking of my only Daughter
The very light of my being
That lost her life last night
A sudden, unjust reckoning.


This flower in front of me
Has a note attached to its stem.
It says "I'm sorry you lost Her"
But Her life meant nothing to them.

This beautiful, wilting creature
is meant to replace Her
As if a pathetic flower
Could ease these crippling burns.

This single papery display of nature
Is just as temporary as She.
In a few weeks it'll be dead like her
Tell me flower - was she robbed of life,
or is she free?!

Is this some kind of cruel joke?
They feel my pain "like an ache in their heart"
But as if to remind me of what I just went through
They give a grieving mother a dying plant.

And yet...
Its beauty reminds me of Her...
Its delicate movements in the breeze
Its quiet solitude and sophistication...
Colour of the deepest seas.

I'll enjoy it while I can
The lift before the fall
I'll give this flower a chance because
maybe it's not so bad after all...