Elsewhere
a heart
for the first time beats
and stops.
Here
a teardrop
in mid-air
freezes.
Aborted rhythm
soundless
retreats.
But
A clock ticks
and stops
without a tock
next instant
a newborn heart
throbs and ceases
in turn
a teardrop
freezes
in mid-air.
Now,
Rhythm
opens its eyes
and blinks.
The orange jacket looks fabulous on my kid. I appraise him with glowing pride. Taking him out for a walk, we meet Another child, ill-fed, dirty and fetid . “The cold that hurts my darling’s skin, Is the same that…
You didn’t think a hometown photo would ever adorn the Gurgaon farmhouse; so you left it on the shelf and shut the door. ~ A novel set in Jharkhand sinks- ‘rejected’; stories of love, murders, and goblins keep the light-bulbs alive. The swimming pool…
The lake flaunts plastics and floating gods With their eyes and feet in clay fragments Staring at the clouds, their dark acrylic hues Lighting dusk fires on mildly smiling ripples. Their leaves and dead flowers lie in a heap. Dark…
In most Minimalist Of music In most Mystical Of musicians In every Irritation Of the eye In easy Excesses Of the exile
Forcing themselves off the birch Those dried leaves were jittery Hot summer winds Do not trouble you under their shade There is no fixed time When you cannot be at peace with ease Though crimes can never be predicted Your…
Before the sun rises on my horizon, an IT-types squeezes next to a farmer-types in an auto and clucks. Men in Nike caps with upside down Ns, read aloud ‘Welcome to Garia’ in English. The digital clock lights up, a…
Primary education provided by tv, subtracts imagination from development, substituting endless desire for luxuries displayed. Never before in history has such a powerful tool allowed the seekers of profit to manipulate the people without their discovering they were being enslaved…
the sun plays on the hubcap ephemeral mandala ******************** rotten dungaree the scarecrow scares everyone but the garden birds ******************** a white jasmine rain on the lap of her sari virginal monsoon ******************** golden turban upon the Sacré-Cœur the same…
To Edgar Allen Poe Blood red moon casts on the mantle and not from the dining room mirror. Crimson shows through the great persimmon makes the hair on the neck stand. Huddling alone in a lack of breathing, the wingspan…
Something is clutched in the darker regions tonight held oneself sweats the sheets the residue of lesser and greater things can’t you give me one more give me a little more and I won’t ask again any money to spare…
The haunting of maps with points and stars with folds and rips well-worn less-traveled choices shoot out into a night tangible where fields of compass roses are rain pedals from all places I have been to all directions out and…
Stamped on pages of time-gnawed manuscripts, an ancient tale is written in stone a hidden saga with un-deciphered scripts Skeletons of engineering marvels Totter in modern cities Filth and foul waters flow over human feet Retribution for lessons unlearnt, forgotten.…