Kavyakankshini...bewitching words spun with spindles of thought and quicksilver yarn...: May 2008



The more i plunge in myself
The more stuck I get,
to my own being...
It's like falling in a huge glue tub
It sticks to you, in tiny strings
small filaments and
tacky little fibres....
The more i try coming out
It extends and stretches
All across my being
Why so many bonds?
So much adhesion
So much connection
To a self that dies
Every moment
To a new self born,
Every moment
Stuck unstuck
Every relation
Stuck unstuck
My two fingers...
Stuck unstuck
My two beings
Stuck unstuck...


Russian love....

Flakes all over
Flakes over the bridge
Covering every road
Covering every ridge
The frost on my lips
Melts with your breath
Your icy fingers singe my skin
Passion seems to ripple
Beneath the frozen river
Draw me close
Draw me near
Oh dear snowman...
Now your kiss is burning
Now your lips sear....
For a dear friend...whom I dare not even dream to lose....

What should I say?
I feel the vacuum,
Can touch it if I stretch my hand...
Don’t yell, don’t cry,
Your name has dried on my lips
Before it reached you...
The bells chime,
It’s about time,
That without memories,
I left you...
Lonely planet
And its single song...
So long my dear...
So long...


This one seems strange to be placed here yet i dare post it...
Somehow its a tale of a couple who parted ways n met again once...this is what the lady had to say to him....
actually the poem has obvious references to a lot of imagery from various sources...some very clear some opaque...but yeah i loved the imagery,its vividness and so it came to me as if it were mine.....
Grey hair suits you better
Those crow feet make you more handsome
Those droopy eyes behind rimmed glasses appeal me still
You have grown sexy with age....
Now, I like you better
A life fully lived...
Burnt in the sun of time
Reborn in the nights of destiny
Remember the days of yore?
Your bare back was my canvas
Your every t-shirt had a hole
For me to sneak a peak
At your ever imploring mole...
Our garden had more cactus
For jasmine had lost its fragrance
Our hands were full of sunbeams
We caught in our bedroom,
Pillows were cages of feathers
Ready to escape with every fight
All our bed linen
Was any color but white
Most of my bookmarks
Were feathers and leaves
From the unhurried lanes of time
When poetry suited you better
Than faded kurtas
And torn jeans seemed so classic
When I ripped them at the shin ....
Bangles seemed to talk
About my every thought
Each anklet told you
About my secret sojourns
Past your house and window
Every pillow was scented
With tears, sweat and semen
And my bridal blanket
With a droplet from my hymen...
Cluttered in our tiny existence
Came the silly weather....
Made me blue n grey for you...
Till despair drove us apart....
Today all I ask
At the dusk of life
Can we ever start
A new story of faith?
Can we be together?
Cause I feel today...
That grey hair suit you better.....


Barasana maiden's love song....

Call me call me oh dear
Call me for I fear
My name shall never raise
Waves of emotion
In the sea of your heart
Call me call me oh dear
I shall come rushing forth
Gushing from a primal force
Gathering momentum once
Losing it to mere pebbles
As my feet bleed
Call me call me oh dear
It’s my longest journey
From within me to without you
From a lover to a pilgrim
As I transform
Call me call me oh dear
Be my God and beckon me
Recollect our bonds and reckon me
Let the peacock feathers remind you
Our early monsoon delights
And all our parting fear
Call me call me oh dear
Those days of twilight tidings
Of kisses you sealed on my breast
Of your tears I held in my nest
Of my feet on the grass
And your snakelike slither...
Call me call me oh dear
Let me end my journey
At the doorstep of your temple
Let my thirsty eyes
Quench at your sight
Let my wretched soul
Purify in your waters
Oh Gopala, my beloved,
Call me call me oh dear
A pilgrim calls
A lover wails
To fate I adhere
Call me call my dear......

Your mother....the.....

“The succulent sweetness of Urdu poetry
The eternally glorified separation of Laila Majnu
The epitomized epitaph inscribed on the winds, belongs to Mastani
The crystallized tears of Umrao Jaan Ada
The by lanes of Lucknow with latticed tales of love and the economics of love
The sole lamp lit in the courtyard, gracing her vacant sky
The fleeting charm from her eyes, tired and dried up
The empty, wretched womanhood, exploited for infinite moons
The crumpled gajras and bedspreads, wads of notes lying around
The slimy grin on her bastard’s face; he too had his noons
The vacant stare into the future, too bleak to be sympathized
Yet, too poetic to be buried in earth, for poetry shall burst forth...”
That’s why my child,
the gulmohur on your mother’s grave is ever in ecstatic bloom....
Your mother...
The prostitute....


i have worn garlands

of lonliness around my neck

i have adorned my hair

with fragrant flowers of your memory

i have decked up

with silks of our whisperings

i have worn anklets

of our tinkling laughter

i am the apsara

i am the abhisarika

i am the yakshini

who has a question;

even fate cannot answer...

"who made me a woman?

and filled poetry in my heart?"