Sunday, November 11, 2012


Hey love,
Parrots have turned blue,
No, I just saw them and they were quite red.
You are lying again you thief,
It’s only the buffaloes that can turn red
Who doesn’t know that!
Well, I have seen some yellow buffaloes in my life,
There’s even a song about it I suppose,
Oh, so you’re telling me I’m crazy
I come from the land of pink crows and purple owls,
Yeah, and flying pigs
No, it’s only the elephants that fly,
It has always been them, the elephants,
Who doesn’t know that !
I have seen them, pigs, flying upside down, pole dancing even,
It has always been that way, time eternal!
You are insulting my culture!
You are insulting my intelligence!
My culture is rooted in flying mammoths,
My whole ancestors are flying mammoths,
And mine were meowing dogs and barking cats,
I have fluorescent cat ancestors with horns for tails
And a purse for an eye.
We should break up,
Flying mammoths and meowing dogs and barking cats
Can’t have babies,
Who Doesn’t Know That!

(Entry for Saarang Writing Awards 2013)

Saturday, November 10, 2012


I never knew my name was beautiful,
Until I heard you say it,
It was in your utterance
that my name became me
and I saw me in my name...
On every other lip, everywhere I had been,
it was a mere cue for me,
to start playing my part,
A dead word on the streets,
Resurrected in your voice...


They always had
blue eyes and golden hair,
in every tale I had heard,
I saw no silver swords around your waist,
You came barefoot, there were
no stallion sounds to
precede your royal arrival..
How was I, a mere fool, then to
know who you were?
You stood at the door of my humble hut,
And I threw you some alms,
mistaking you for a beggar,
Seeing my sad apprehensions,
you forgave me for my ignorance
and left silently,
And every treasure I had hid from you
rusted, eternally unknown...

Locked Doors

I was told by my Holy Book,
that if I knocked,
It shall be opened for me.

I knocked, I know you were
behind that door, so I knocked,
with all my might,
and my knuckles bled.

All I could see was
your shadow through the hinge,
My blood, sweat and tears
stained the flowers I had picked for you,
No doors were opened for me,
like the promises you never kept..


If I cry, will my tears fall out as diamonds?
Like that Japanese fish princess
in that story you once told me..
Will it fall out as blood?
Like from that dead ghost girl
you speak about, everytime-
you want me to cling to you when we walk..

Now only footsteps follow me,
footsteps that belongs to no one,
footsteps that once perhaps
belonged to you...
And in my tears
there is only salt and water,
Only silences and pauses,
No stories, no diamonds, no blood..