insanity

we have both been there,
in,among the whirling lights,
and dancing shadows,
the place no one knew,
staring in fascination-
at wavering lifeforms,
tentacly reminders of wasted morality-
we were there once,
without knowing.
you know the place,you want to go,
again-
dancing with a tottering gait,
the place you expect to find,
of bright colours and misty darknesses,
of highs achieved on nothing,
and lows of being alive-
the place [...]

growing old

i grow old,lying awake at midnight,
gently ageing.
watching a plume of smoke rise somewhere in the distance,
despite the pattering rain,on the road,
outside the compound,something is smouldering.
lying awake at nights
to write weary poems to put outdeserted fires,
the meek hallucinating about inheriting the earth,
as,in the distance,a child wails-
woken,perhaps,by a bad dream.
midnight is a festering,unrestful place,
and the clouds, a [...]

facade

we meet people,everyday,
see,touch,hear,hug,
speak,glare,evaluate,weigh them,
in scales-
cost benefit analysis
in calculations of relationships,
the business of liking people,
collaterals submitted in friendships,
laughing at unfunny jokes,
tolerating idiotic whims,
restraining rebellion,
we smother ourselves,bit by bit,
the real submerged,
in a sea of the ersatz,
we live on,brick by brick,
cementing facades.

livin’ in a shoebox

yeah,well,baby,
that is interesting,
what you think,
that i am one,
in ten billion,
a face in a crowd
two halves of a unwonderful world,
laughable lifes,i lead,
i live in a shoebox,
yes,babe,i do,cramped inside myself,
but i dream of the stars…
and perhaps you can make
some sense out of it,this hunger
i have,for you,for life,
and for all you are,
cuz live in a shoebox,
and travel by [...]

logic and radio

i was coming home from work,last evening, and like millions of people across mumbai,was listening to a random radio program.now,i am willing to accept the fact (if it is so,indeed) that one of the qualifications to host a radio talk show or be a RJ is probably that you either have to have a very [...]

plastic flowers

rain streaks the windowpanes,
making crisscrossing lines,
much like the furrows,
on your forehead,
remember the day,
nineteen butter flies came to our room,
thirty seven blazing yellow suns,
painted on thirty eight black wings,
fluttering,feathery,soft,
balls of fire streaking across the room,
there was one that sat on your dressing table,
worrying your perfume,
decieved-
did you remember,
the plastic flowers,i once bought you,
to set on a vase,on [...]