Our sunscreen is melting The house we stand in front of is made of broken white,collected silence, unloved days, and empty water ductsthat have been dry for so long we find bird nests strewn in them. We are afraid to sweep away the beds of brown leaves,nests et al, because we know we won’t be... Continue Reading →
One In my dream, there is a quiet verandahof an ancient temple. The blue light falls like a shadow over the verandah and me.I wait for a leaf to stir me awake, a prayergong to sound, for even my cat to appearbut nothing moves here, not even me. I carry this dream around like a talismaninside... Continue Reading →
Things I Would Tell You If You Hadn't Gone Away For my weekly horoscope, the tarot reader pulled out a Four of Wands card. It means that I have lost my religion. If you add half a teaspoon of jaggery sugar in a cup of black coffee, it becomes easier to swallow on a wounded... Continue Reading →
It was a patchwork evening, the smog of the day blanketed the sky, foggy orange lights lit up the sidewalk where we stopped. You taking cash out of your wallet so I could get a ride home. Me fiddling with my handbag despite knowing I was out. You handed me a note that no one... Continue Reading →
I’m sitting by the phone, waiting to hear from you, my arms droop from the side of the chair as I hold the newspaper in my right hand and smoke a cigarette using my left. There’s a terrible war raging outside and the reports are full of feelings, opinions, and warnings. The struggle, as they put... Continue Reading →
It's all the little things and how they fall into the intervals of day-to-day living, of you and your countenances. They arrange themselves around me, not saying the things I knew you would say because your absence fills its place, being where you may have been, knowing you'd pick this piece or that and sometimes... Continue Reading →
Every morning, she pulls herself out of the rabbit hole, climbs down her bed, and gently lands on her feet. The remains of the previous night are scattered alibi on the floor — worn out stationery, money gone out of circulation, handwritten telephone diaries, the wreckage of old friends. Who made this mess? Where are... Continue Reading →
On Poetry in Everyday Life In and Around Adishakti Theatre Long ago, I used to write poems about photos taken by friends (who are not friends anymore). It wasn't a conscious effort at collaboration, if you will. But it wasn't wholly my creation. It was shared. When I read the poems now, it seems like... Continue Reading →
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