One day I will throw my arms and hug again We will meet in cafes and chatter And moan about work pressures And chuckle at trivial things. We will dance like no one’s watching, Go on trips, laugh with wild abandon And the only masks will be the faces We wish to wear that day. For…
Category: poetry
Peace at last.
It poured that evening after that crematorium The man there collecting the dead like piles of leaves Leaves that have fallen from trees bursting with summer While the garden lies untended, with no one to stop And admire the flowers that were your joy and pride. The skies darkened to black and rain lashed the…
Mass cremation
I want to steal some lives From the pyres around me Steal some smiles from those Who died breathlessly Reaching out and finding No hands pressed in return And I want to hear their stories Yes, each and every one. And scream their joys From the mountains So the world will not forget The weight…
Erasing Bodies (in a crisis)
After the dead have been put away, Their bodies lie as shells on a beach, The limbs that danced with life Shut down forever, waiting to be picked up, Cremated, donated, buried or thrown For vultures to feast. I call Upon the bodies I own, my past loves My mistakes, even that drunken phone In…
Lost souls
I don’t talk about God with my mother I don’t tell her a lot of things like how I struggle to sleep, or laugh and go through another day. I tell no one that I am sad How I let my soul wander and it goes away. I don’t talk about how I don’t care…
Crossing over
My night, fractured into a million pieces Skitters away from me, a pile of mirrors Glittering in the dawn. There’s that dark Of the uncertainty, the fears that strike Without time or reason, keeping me awake Most of the rhyme. Then there’s the laughter Of my daughters, iridescent and bright Of friends whose words delight…
Lockdown 5:13 am.
I woke from dreaming because of the dogs I was ordering Chinese for grandparents Who have been dead for almost 30 years, My husband sat at a table with important men Talking of revitalizing the system. I look back on the year almost gone And the years that actually have been lived You may tell…
The last mango of the Salt Lake house
was starting to rot. I cut carefully around the edges, juices dripping down fingers Into mouths that eagerly waited to bite into the sweet yellow flesh. No one lives in that house since you left. It lies abandoned, a shadow of what had been, a house full of memories the walls a reminder of all that…
We are safe #CycloneAmphan
The rain lashed the walls of my face Each drop piercing the skin as I chased The old unused tent that threatened to fly Off the terrace. Someone gave that tent To my daughters for them to play, And there it stayed for years thereafter, out grown, But not remembered to be thrown. The clouds…
To the stranger in the dark.
Faces change over time grow up and move away But eyes? Eyes remain the same, windows to all that was. I think I see you cross the road our eyes meeting only for a second to move on, obscurity measured in a single glance. Maybe you too thought I was someone you knew from another…
