November 8, 2017

circular logic

don't stop growing up
because it means that you are
somewhere, still a child

October 24, 2017

October 23, 2017

hanging together

pastel shades, and nude and neon
tiger stripes and polka dots
pitch black, pure white
logos, letters, hearts
ankle length, knee length and somewhere in between
padded and not, maybe an underwire
bikini, boy shorts, boxers,
all fluttering about gently in the breeze
content in their little spaces
but often nudging one another
swaying to the sound of the birds
intertwining briefly
as if playing Chinese Whispers
giggling at the gaffes, teasing, mocking
smelling more like rain as they dry out
hanging together
unhurried
enjoying their time out in the sun

such a pretty sight
the clothes line

October 4, 2017

that right shade of grey

i wish i could draw
and colour and paint
the pictures i see so clearly in my head
because sometimes, words fail me

pictures of you, me, them, and others

in different postures of agony and upset
and happiness, too, at times

set in different shades of blue from aquamarine to navy
and yellows from lemon to ochre

climbing tall, rocky mountains
and relaxing in calm, serene valleys

listening to mozart, at times
and then to linkin park

i see the faces, the expressions, the body language
but i can't write them down so well
because my words appear to show two ends of the spectrum
creating a dichotomy, splitting inherent connects
and only showing black and white

yes, i wish i could draw
and colour and paint
because black and white blend so well
on a palette, but not on paper

and that right shade of grey is all i need sometimes
to make sense of my life

September 17, 2017

a fine balance

what happens
when two rocks that have borne each other's weight
by gently adjusting positions
through rain, waves and storms
are battered and about to give way?

will they
equally split the pressure
so that both are only weathered
or will one take the entire load
and end up being completely beaten?

which is
the better option?
the immediate or the imminent?
the sudden or the gradual?

will there
be another rock
that will some day squeeze into that space
and balance things once again?

would it
know where to sit
and when to move?
or would it just pretend?

but, did that even matter?

September 13, 2017

the circus

ah, the circus
with the funny clowns,
and the flexi acrobats,
the crazy trapeze artists
and the whip-snapping ringmaster

so much noise
so much drama
so much excitement
in the ring and outside
what a fun, action-packed place the circus seems

except when it's your life
and you're stuck
juggling all of it and more
day in and out
oh what a bloody bore!

September 6, 2017

what's the point

i sometimes wonder
what's the point
of doing anything

of protesting
silent or not
of marching
peaceful or not
of holding slogans
scripted or not

what's the point

it's always the same people
the same faces
the same sorrow
the same determination
the same everything

what do the others see?

a gathering at town hall
or at freedom park
or at the press club
people standing until they are asked to leave
because it's time for the next event

yes, it feels pointless

but then i see my kids
standing in the midst of it all
excited about a slogan someone handed them
understanding some things
and curious about the rest

and i remind myself
that that is the point
and that i must never stop doing something
anything

August 20, 2017

The Very Tired Butterfly

Published on Madras Courier


i saw you lying face up
when i went to the terrace this morning
you were in a corner
with your feet up
in a position of surrender
a position that showed no fear
a position that you, maybe, took when you finally went to rest

i kneeled down and peered closer
your face looked peaceful
and i could almost see a smile
that's how one looks in death, i suppose

i turned you over
you were so beautiful
like a tiger
orange, black and a bit of white

what did you eat for that orange to glow?
clementines aren't so bright.
what made the black look blacker than pitch?
blueberries aren't so dark.
and that pure white, where did it come from?
did you eat fresh snowflakes when you last played?

what all did it take for you to become a tiger, oh butterfly
and was it too much that you couldn't hold on for just one more day?

August 17, 2017

reflection

one bright sunny morning
a sudden gust of wind
blew hard upon a tree
and forced it to bend down
and look into the lake

instantly, it sprang back!

it was horrified by what it saw
its leaves had withered
its branches had dried up
its bark had changed colour
it looked beaten
but why?

it had basked in the warm, summer sun
but gotten burnt when it had stayed too long
it had shed its layers in the cool autumn wind
but shivered when it had shown too much
it had been coated in winter's pretty snowflakes
but been blanketed during a storm
it had been at spring’s colourful best
but allergies had made it blue

while it pondered all this
it was struck by another thought
was it beaten, or had it just been weathered?

wasn't it still standing?

yes, it had changed
it didn't have a choice
it had been frightened
of what it had become
so it hadn’t looked
until the push from the gust
had forced it to see

and once it had seen
there was no going back
to another time or an earlier self

so it embraced the gust
the second time around
and let itself be gently swayed
to look into the lake

and it held still
and looked long and hard
at its reflection

August 14, 2017

entangled

the insect managed
to escape the spider's web
could they do the same?