Saturday, January 13, 2018

In the right light

I read something that nudges me
to look outside the window
or imagine somewhere other than now.
I think about the infinity of things
and the endless horizon of possibilities.
I imagine the chains that they are all bound by.
I feel the chain of events reaching me
and wetting my feet with experience.
I am rewired at that moment.
I am put in the cross-hairs of my own thoughts.  

Saturday, December 30, 2017

The muse

The muse car-pools with me
and is silent for most part of the journey.
It adjusts its gaze occasionally to see
if I am noticing how things can be.
But I am just focused on my ends and
what it all means to me and the world.
It doesn’t disappear yet, it waits
for the moment when the windows darken,
the wipers flail and everything is washed
in the rain, and I observe something
that rings bells: bells of charm and not alarm.
And the inner leaves rustle in a metaphorical breeze.  

Sunday, December 3, 2017

The expanding universe

The fact that universe is expanding
has trickled down to me.
It has had no effect on my goings-on
as a normal citizen.
The car works just fine,
the apples still fall to the ground
as they did before and elsewhere.
But now there is a certain unease
when I write that you are moon-faced or
compare you to some other heavenly body.
I would like to expand too and compare you
to the universe and all its complexities.

Thursday, November 30, 2017

A drunken nod to the Classics

Long after you’ve read them, the scene
is still playing slothfully before your eyes.
A clear stage and a clever dialogue subtly hint
that something is wrong with the world.
A character is shown a long, slow mirror,
long enough to observe the folds in the
clothing or even count the number of lights
in the chandelier, precariously hung above him.
The story grows a beard, turns into a cape
follows you like a heroic shadow.
You ingest everything about it
so much that you wander in Wuthering Heights.
You tend to have Great Expectations about everything
leading to Pride first and then Prejudice.
Your adventures into wonderlands
end in abandonment in a lonely island.
You go through War and Peace and at every
turn of phrase, you expect Sense and Sensibility.
You call out for help to Emma and Anna but alas!
they’ve all left, without a word, with The woman in White.
You wonder about the balance in this Crime and punishment,
let out a sigh and suffer the Trial. Despite all this, you are
still Quixotic and dream of a Brave new world. 

Saturday, November 18, 2017


Always found between the lines
it is a slip stream of consciousness.
It sneaks into a home
while everyone else leaves for work.
It is a witness much different
from the usual silent witness.
It is the only one not to miss
the beautiful sunrises and sunsets
and everything in between.
It makes complete sense by itself.
It’s that distant feeling I get
when I write my answers in the present
to the questions of future. 

Monday, September 18, 2017

You have a history

You have a history.
Someone resembling you
did something terrible and their
stinky sinful clothes stuck on you
since then forward, onwards and thereafter.

You have a history
and someone whom you knew
rebelled against the order of things
and you are stuck in that place
eve since, forever and wherever.

You have a history
and someone in your name
started a war, filled his own pockets
and you did nothing. It’s your fault
from then on and till eternity.

You have a history
and your bloodline will be crooked.
It’ll destroy the world from being the
happy place that it already is.

You have a history
and you can’t hide from it.
It is sewn into your skin
Imprinted  on the eye balls
Written all over
that no help will come. 

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Arriving early

They arrived early
for the anniversary dinner.
Even ahead
of some of the cutlery at the table.
They are here
well before the children that will follow.
They are here
taking one step at a time.
They are here
like the will before the way.