Monthly Archives: August 2004

Soliloquy

i’m so scared i’m slipping that i think i might cry

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Ahpiss

If there be a piece called ‘La Pathetique’ It would be echoing in my second drawer Loud and dripping over paper that someone once saw

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Vague/ Ambiguous?

Unruly as I am tidy as you are Bright light in small cups which might have been filled with sweet thick milk Love like payasam thick and wholesome and nauseous when had too much You play with the tips of … Continue reading

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Ambi

Is all poetry a definition of ambiguity When I say my love for you is ambiguous, It doesn’t mean it is vague. Reasonable Interpretation to the rescue of poetic carelessness. Philosophers rushed to the rescue and asked me where the … Continue reading

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So very special

Coaxing the floating rib to finally give up control and sit with the perfect body The beautiful soul bathing in sun and the moon While tears fall on curved edges Mirrors in your eyes You and your beliefs are pouring … Continue reading

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Stinging the Numb

Something in the air has made the last few days exceptionally hard on the spirit. Like damp air that entered a box and robbed it of its crisp laughter. In some mundane hour of yesterday, I lapsed into listening to … Continue reading

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Some jazz gone quiet

There has to be a reason, beyond being able to sit, that drives one to home. But the reasons cannot be composed of circuits. My life revolves around screens and wires right now. My music seems strangely quiet.

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Hyderabadi Inertia

Hyderabad. This uneven city, with rocks heaving sighs. I am trying to figure out whose city this is. Because as yet, it isn’t mine. I feel lost. I can’t make my way anywhere. The confidence of Bombay, and the ease … Continue reading

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Epidermia

You keep referring to the noise in your head It’s all collected in the small concave of my palm It must be that you cried last night, because between my fingers, the wind began to howl What can I do, … Continue reading

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Glue water blue

If only water were glue, The tears of Icarus would have swept his soul. I keep witnessing the fall all over again, and sweat, sticky, just like glue, binds all the minutes of the night to the sheets. The light … Continue reading

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Vague – Split – End

This day is longer than all the strands of my hair put together.

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