Sunday, January 3, 2016

Ganapati Bapa Maurya


Saturday, July 27, 2013

Flight of projectiles


Opened eyes,

Sealed hearts,
Blind curtains,
Rains litter,
Roads dither,
Waste withers,
A sigh slithers,
When the sky thunders,
Those beneath wonder,
Clueless wanderers,
Like aimless darts,
No bull's eye in sight,
Slight shudder,
Short, long,
Flight of projectiles,
Targets unknown. 

Saturday, September 29, 2012



Her stare ambles through the train. Her son impervious to his mother's reverie sucks on his index and middle finger.
She is bobbing her head back and forth. Perhaps, a lullaby echoes in her mind. Not that it is time to sleep or he is restless; a maternal instinct must have been triggered when his soft buttocks touched her thighs.
She realises his presence and caresses his head. "Are you okay my boy?" she dabs his head to check his temperature.
He doesn't respond. She takes it as his approval of current affairs.
She uproots him from the warmth of her body and seats him next to her.

Monday, August 6, 2012

Sea siesta


The sea that flows,
No rhyme, no reason,
The howl grows,
Its not the seaoson.

With no push or shove it carries on,
Silica in the air settles on cheeks,
The sun blazes, sweat colours the textile lawn,
Wet shirt; I could be one among the freaks.

Sky lights up,
Crows the unusual entertainers,
Its a full story, not a stub,
Head rests on my hands; just the manners.

Thursday, August 2, 2012



Plate, rate, ate, satiate,
Bloke, smoke, choke, hope,
Chick, hot, legs, ass, slick,
Eyes, contact, smile, check out my style,
Don't go, wait, stay, that heels can't go for another mile,
The itch, the stutter, they wish to rest, stand by my sneakers,
My hand, your waist, the curves are too clever,
Your lips, my lips, cigarette is not there, was never,
I don't smoke, the key chain, end of deception, friends' laughter,
Her puckered lips, no kiss, pissed, the match stick, lights cigarette, mouth taut, no talk, my face, smoke, I choke, she struts off.

Monday, July 30, 2012



In a rush, in a rush,
Am hurtling towards a dead-end,
But devil may care,
No time to be a do-gooder,
I leave beggars in my wake,
In a rush, in a rush.

All you slow coaches,
Move away or be derailed,
This train needs to make time,
She arrives in some minutes,
In a rush, in a rush.

Nobody please don't expect much,
Mind the back of your shoes,
My strides will crush them,
Longer than the Big-Foot,
In a rush, in a rush.

The pauses are pain in my ***,
I writhe on my seat,
At every stop this bus makes,
Conductor yank no more,
Let it cruise, let it cruise,
Because I am in a rush, in a rush.

Let bygones be bygones,
They can return,
But they are not welcomed,
Kick on their backs is all they can expect,
Like quagmire they embrace you,
I need to swim, I need to swim,
Because I am in a rush, in a rush.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012



She had no inkling that her world was about to change. The bubbly nature was about to burst. In the early morning; just like every other morning, she was jogging in the neighbourhood park.
She was violated. From nowhere, a rotund man, in his twilight years, pats her behind and just keeps walking.
She cringes, when the impact is felt. She glares at this lecherous creature. But her arms nestle under her breast, her feet weigh down the ground; she transforms into a peeved statue.
He exits the garden as she sits on a marble bench to cool down her frayed nerves.
She retrospects and wonders what could have been? How she could have slapped the man. Sure, he was strong but she could have given out a yelp, which would have gathered the people in the park.
But she could not imagine this old man's predicament, albeit well-deserved, without pangs in her abdomen. She now thinks: The man is going to die very soon. Let me be happy for being a pleasant memory in the man's last few days.
With her mind at peace, she lumbers to her home.