Losing Greens

Disappearing green in small pieces
a summer night's breath on dry window panes
never a dream led to believe
of rivers that vanished without rains.

Masters of the willows never wept
when stripped of honour in everyday shame
angry birds died in granular sky
wind galleries shrieked for songs that never came.

The Girl With Rainbow Scars

I believe you would have never heard
Of the girl with rainbow scars
She lived in the house of Mahogany
She loved rhyme in the words.

She housed a traveler years ago
He gave her colorful jars
She kept these in the water
Her home illusion of stars.

She smiled through silk in her senses
He wandered in the dusky bars
They made love in the house of Mahogany
Unnoticed blossom of the scars.

He left unsaid as he had come
She found the unfilled hours
The dream took its time to wake up
She ached of rainbow scars.

She loved colors
Purple and others
She loved rhymes in the words
She lived in the house of Mahogany.

I met her once with colorful jars
She gave me a rainbow from her scars.

Design of a Psyche

Meeting strangers in unknown places
spirits play tugs in limited spaces
days of indifference remain alike
few smiles cover the reluctant traces.

Design of a psyche is interesting to read
desires abandon a moment of greed
loneliness recedes inside the bedroom
acts make up a music desperate to lead.

Fantasies

Remember the rockets we shot with rubber bands
Hurling in air, hurting the hands;
If they return from empty spaces
And hurl back at us, on our faces,
Tell me do you know new hiding places?

Aspirations played wings when dreams came cheap
We raised cactus at the boundary of the heap;
If wings come apart in the mid flight,
Tell me through cactus if we can creep?

There is another fantasy to write,
If stars tried to look different each night,
Tell me will you feel the fright?

Observation at Chandni Chowk

He's desperate to sell
She's desperate to save
Fighting over few rupees
Equal to which I spent
Unassuming over shoe-polish,
Poverty in the market place
It escapes as it hits

Gloss

Blue blue gloss
red red floss
candy bars
lipstick stars.

Criss-cross!
Criss-cross!

Candy floss
lipstick gloss
blue blue stars
red red bars.

Criss-cross!
Criss-cross!

Lipstick gloss
red red bars
candy floss
blue blue stars.

Revisiting Conversations

I remember old conversations
long discussions on phone
of love, fear, friends and other things
which mattered then,
like gossips overheard at Coffee House
and bargains with the storekeepers on the Fifth Street.

Your voice concerned
stranded one night at Lower Parel station
waiting for the last train
amidst hungry harmless eyes of Mumbai.

Your sound longing at faraway hostel
in August rains
clinging like wet clothes drenched in love, and lust.

I remember old conversations
whispers carried over airwaves
the sweaty pillow talks in summer.

Yours words silent on despair and uncertainty
the talks I remember stretched late into January nights,
leaving cold.

Years of conversations
fears, joys and missed sleeps
some words not mentioned here,
all remain translated into memories.

I revisit you often in these conversations,
with a cup of black coffee and honey.

For The Ones Who Never Met

Sparkling you,
dissolved..
Love I found,
smuggled.

ishq ki tamanna
sirf saara jahaan..
baarish ke nishaan
aasmaani

Words uncut,
paralleled..
Smiles unmet,
wandered.