Monday, May 30, 2011

Lunch Break

The summer air,
flames leaping,
kissing, burning,
           ceremonious walk to the canteen,
           exhaling thoughts, mind meandering,
imagining watching it rain
unearthed obscure worlds away.

Meeting you,
Untangling glances,
adamant in a transient knot,
seeing nothing of the watching eyes on me,
hearing nothing of the chattering cacophony
of hungry orderings or clattering spoons,
only you existed and
your eyes that looked back.

Between eating and walking back,
And chasing deadlines uninspiring,
For those few unsettling handful of seconds,
I wished my eyes wrapped on to yours would speak
words curled up in a difficult lump,
refusing to go down my parched throat .

As I walk back into my escapable turmoil
I see you waiting under the tree,
I smiled,
walked past and forced the instance
-sun bald, scalding,
you waiting,
your back turned to me-
into a dark panelled room
of escaping memories.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Malavarathamma, the goddess of the hills

Eyes wide,
mouth opened in a touch of awe,
coaxing rice balls, fish and ghee,
I was told of the Tusker god at three,
of his paunch adorable,
appetite insatiable, intellect untrammeled
traveling on a mouse.

When I danced
Time swirled or stood still,
I was reminded
my anklets rang to
the cosmic chants of Shiva's destruction
and I danced to provoke,
the anklets digging into my flesh
to be released from your endless cycle of illusions,
yearning to be consumed
by His unforgiving third eye.

When I moved in a whirlpool uninhibited,
to my navel's erotic impulses
my torso swaying to your gentle breath,
swaying palm fronds, ocean kissing,receding,
complex sexuality
lasya mohini.

When I faltered in love,
swooning to soft blows of air,
orgasmic touches of your dusky arms,
lips parted
enchanting flute,
you made me the tireless lover unsatiated
waiting eternally
unsatisfied with my worldly lovers.

But of you the Goddess of the Hills,
I never knew,
The one-breasted goddess of rebellion,
who lived in mountains undisturbed
one with the streams, the defiant wind,
and the dirty slush of paddy fields,
to you, I remained unacquainted.

Was it because you were dark like desire
your body smelling of
intoxicating earth wet
impelling snakes to mate,
that they refused to sing of you?

Weren't tales not told of magical proportions
because your nipple hard stared back,
with unbridled lust,
accusing fixed unwavering gaze,
and their hypocrisy, your prey?
Or was it because you were a woman?
unborn from a man's limbs,
his uncontrollable pelvic desires
or wasted incestuous sperms?

Why did it take me twenty years and four
to find you obscure,
in convoluted hierarchies of the divine world,
Because you were alone,unafraid?
concubine to none?
drinking elixirs meant only for male lips,
uncircumscribed by any sanctum-sanctorums
of the holy circles
of erring trinity?
Was it because your touch burned
my ancestral mother,
that they call me an untouchable today?

Monday, May 23, 2011

Spider Hickeys

Last night,
while I slept
curved in a womb
cradling web of Slumber,
inhabited by affable monsters,
horrifying humans and amorphous in-betweens,
all speaking together,
lashing their tongues at me
in a language no stranger
of dreams weird incomprehensible,

You scaled and conquered my nape unbidden,
with tiny sticky octo-feet,
and left with no introduction
a trail of patterned
arachnid love bites.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Love Long-distance

Time traveling back and forth,
tensions crackling
across long distance calls,
arriving conversations over Skype,
delayed a little while smiles ,
its unsettling echoes.

Summer mornings lethargic,
changes arriving on a cartwheel,
vibrations karmic,
and confessions cathartic.
Coffee at an odd hour,
learning love in vernacular,
memorizing patterns,fonts eclectic
decoding cultures,silence detonating

In tiny cardboard boxes existences sensate,
unpacking monsoons in perfume bottles ornate,
sighs riding on ocean waves
crashing silently on my shore,
paradoxes so-real and kisses surreal
planning and questioning
un-planning and accepting,
undoubted, loved,
in spite of me
because of you.

Thursday, May 12, 2011


Where do you come from,
the markers of extraordinary vigour
Of yesterdays forlorn
and tomorrows unpast.
Arriving unannounced
on your toes like a whisper,
leaving kisses silent ,
moist behind my ear.

Or in a whoosh of a blowing wind from nowhere,
lifting me,
swirling and then a happy pirouette.
Or smelling
of dried purple petals,
hidden in between
forgotten passages,
of musty memories and rust filled loneliness,
Or pent up frustrations
spinning upward
like froth in an ocean.

In a rush of anger
you’ll hit me hard,
the world wobbling in imbalance,
like breathing was remembering,
you come and go and when you wish,
leaving me lying wasted,
on words strewn,
shells from crevices inside
I never knew existed.

Strangers in a Metro

And then the same monotonous voice,
of the woman from beyond,
the doors pull apart and
with the crowd in you walk.
The winter chill still in your hair
we stood uncomfortably close,
smelling sweat of strangers
who pushed and shoved,
eyes meeting, fleeting
in unrecognized recognition,
And I wondered of have beens
in a world unenclosed.

Would you let me smell your hair,
and bite you on your neck.
Will you ink me little kisses
and watch me undress.
You'll snore through your nose,
and  I will have poems read out
I would think of you when it rains,
and you will smile in the middle of nowheres.
Frantic sex in dingy elevators,
smelling shamelessly of 
cigarettes and each other.
Like rats on our roofs,
dreams shall breed
infesting on insecurities that came with us,
and we'll fight and hate and loathe
and love
in vigour.

And then the doors will part screeching in defeat
when your journey ends and mine begins,
you will walk out scorned in love,
distressed with us ever meeting,
unlike the stranger in a metro,
whom I met and left
with no name
or memories to recall.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Remember me not in silence

You plundered my soul, gagged me into silence,
You drew lines and asked me to stay within,
My skin was never fair enough, my eyes not big
My history was an exotic song
to be enjoyed,
but never to be believed.

I refused to drink from Your holy chalice,
I didn't believe in Your heaven,
I defied,I riled, my thoughts I spit.

I was striped and paraded naked,
spit on and pierced in.
I was raped,killed in front of my watching children,
shot, pointblank, left to die.
then you took my last breath
and twisted it into a lie.

Not before I let out a gasp,
for I knew you will be looking,
If you find it
don't bury it in marbled mausoleums,
or under garish cement statues,
Let it out in a loud cry,
Whip it, and fling it as a slap,
remember to remember me,
but not in silence