Wednesday, November 24, 2010


she stands
high and mighty
regal, royal
haat of this country

large neat roads
with important-sounding names
old-red charm
of forts and monuments

janpath, quick bargains
lush colours, against
the pillar-white
of connaught place

hauz khas
trees and brick
dim alleys
quaint shops, cafes

pigeons, peace
at jama masjid
rickshaws zip
through narrow gallis

paratha, lassi
kebabs, rabdi
metro, people
in impersonal proximity

big cars, small cars
those on foot
those on the footpath
she sustains all

she is proud
she does not embrace
but will lend herself
to open arms.

Sunday, November 21, 2010


bamboo for paper
silkworms for silk
leaves for tea

old for new
raw for ripe
life for life

Tuesday, November 02, 2010

potted plant

the thirst was killing
she writhed and screamed
pain spasmed

through her once strong veins

a little water, a drop
he walked in, she saw

him hang clothes

on the washing line
so close, she gasped

for breath, wanting,

begging in despair for
a little water, a drop

but he disappeared
and she knew she had lost
she collapsed heavily

sucked out of her
the green of the
freshly-washed shirt

beside her
drop by drop, into
a green puddle on the floor.