Tea-shop girl

The corner shop that serves us tea

And houses all furore.

From rising price to falling stars

In voices shrill and sore.

A pair of eyes does follow them

Look askance at their din

When closing shop with little hands

And washing strainers clean.

A simple riddle troubles her,

At times does make her smile

How grown up men have silly fights

Knowing all the while

People die and prices rise,

Stars shoot up at night.

Among things does never change

Her books drink in streetlight.

His Last Cigarette

It was the second summer of love for me.

The scorching sun set fire to the bitumen-heart of dusty streets.

I was having my second shower of the day, of sweat and grime

Profusion peeping from behind sweat glands

My favorite deodorant losing efficacy

Slowly in unseen, muted vapors.

I felt an uneasy calm haunting me,

Bullying me around the bylanes of Southern Avenue.

She had said, “I need to talk”.

Me, ever eager for stealing a tryst knew

Her impulses could never wait.

Still, this time, deep inside, anxiety breathed.

How bad could this be?

Many storms had left us tempered, bruised.

Yet, love had had its say.

In all its sweet stubbornness.

Eyes used to lazy siestas drowned in a sea of images.

The air, thinning in a moistureless mirage,

Carrying tender promises of sweet nothings brewed

Promises of a more humane evening beckoned.

-‘An Appointment’.

I smiled at myself.

Far down the dreary road, spent souls prayed for relief, paid for water.

Summers in this city surely didn't promote love.

The defiant zombie.

Charmed with love, kissed with death.

I moved.

In a single minded motivated motion.

Where? I did not know.

I was waiting for my answers. When would she come?

It was about time now.

I could smell the sweet lavender of her talcum with my eyes closed

Soft, soothing, reassuring.

It was her only perfume.

Her tresses made careless riddles at me,

As occasional sighs of stale air teased them, trounced them

And went back defeated, fatigued.

Like me.

Leaning against a rusting post, I lit up.

Curls of white smoke, in their sinuous ascent sneered at me.

They were with her now. Traitors!

She hated tobacco, smoke and fire.

I loved them all, within a single delightful wrap

They called 'Cigarette'.

Smoke made her eyes red,

As red as the setting sun we were audience to, sometimes.

Times we discussed Tomorrow and its Bliss

Today, she was late. Unusually.

My loneliness bought me courage to protest my wait

I rehearsed my lines to get even.

She knew my patience hated being tested.

And she loved that look on me.

Now, I could see her down the lane.

A light sky blue on her, cooling my eyes.

Distance diminishing with her every step.

I had already forgotten my lines.

Rebuke had escaped its rickety prison inside my ribs.

But, there was no playful annoyance in her today

A Duchess miffed at disservice.

Her eyes were unadorned

Naked with an emotion unknown to me.

What could it be?

She knew how I loved kohl on them

How I could stare at them for eternity.

She always tossed those loving gazes

Into the water of the lake.

They sank, gasping for breath.

Rippling out to their deaths.

I could only sigh. She laughed.

She said it was late.

Always.

And left.

Today, she glanced between my fingers.

As familiarity emerged in her eyes.

A blend of distress and discomfort.

Confused, I took another drag at my stick.

Simmering in a telling sacrifice for me,

It could provide no wisdom today

As I grappled for answers.

I waited for that known sweep of disgust

Emanating from her sleek fingers,

Grounding my prized ‘India King’.

I waited for that familiar look of hurt

To reflect on her hazel eyes.

Nothing like that today.

Something had moved.

More sheepish every second, I stood.

Silence dawned. Love waited.

Words trickled in a crisis

I walked. We walked.

In her eyes I saw a storm,

Nestling its fury, exploding inwards.

She spoke at last.

She was leaving.

Far off lands held more promises.

Promises of progress, avenues of learning.

How I loathed my nursery rhymes now.

How I hated quantum physics.

That cruel idol of ‘Education’ had had its revenge.

And wasn’t it sweet.

My helpless eyes looked up

A bead of pregnant emotion had gathered cloud

At the corner of her eyes.

I could never see her cry. Something snapped within

A deluge of emotions arrived in abandon.

She cried. We mourned. Hours flew.

She whispered, “We will meet”.

The skeptic in me jeered.

The boulevard was replete with memories.

As we walked in silent vigil

We trampled them, muting their voices.

Forever.

Our walk was labored. Long and viscous.

Still, it had to end.

Roads never went on forever. I knew that.

Our last walk together. Perhaps, this was.

I put the last cigarette to my lips,

Waiting for her to throw it away.

One last time.

How I longed for her hand to move,

In one final stroke of playful disdain.

The last act of love at work.

She stared back at me

Her eyes the colour of a pallid evening-sky,

Denuding me of all my strength and weaknesses

For the first time ever

I watched her

As she held the light for me.

Kanha- III

The adda session slowly drowning in intermittent cries of hunger, we decided it was time for dinner. The door of the dormitory was being locked when something of a spectacle struck us down cold.

Darkness!
Believe me, if you haven't been to a forest before, take it from me, "There are few things as supremely intimidating as a walk inside a forest in the night". It was literally 'pitch black' outside. The six of us were left looking askance at each other. Alu had suddenly become oblivious of any sensation known hitherto to mankind as 'hunger'. Dudu looked visibly shaken. With a resolve that ravenous men have when danger separates them from their food we moved forward in a battle formation that would make a retreat look more honorable. Small torches made their best attempt at lighting up the road for us but, what they really did was magnify the sheer completeness of the darkness. And that at all didn't serve the purpose!
We inched to the canteen where promptly the tables were set. The good food ( albeit completely vegetarian) assuaged to some extent the rigors of our recent 'adventure' and at the same time galvanizing strength and courage for a rerun on our way back to the hostel. Post-dinner I called out everybody to look up at the sky which was littered with countless constellations we knew no name of. The clarity of the sky coupled with the sheer presence of the dark forest, waiting almost in an endless anticipation made me feel dizzy by its sheer import. The stars were so real yet so distant. One feels too very lonely at times like these. The endless extent of Creation belittles you and you feel insignificant and small. Yet, there is an empowering satisfaction, a sense of absolute liberation in accepting that smallness, that insignificance. I don't know if it's normal or not but, at times like this I feel like dying. It makes me feel it would be the most wonderful moment to leave this world, when I am at complete peace with everything around me.


Digressions! Digressions!

So, after our rendezvous with the stars was left incomplete, we headed for the hostel with measured steps. We would be making an early start tomorrow. "Have to get up at 5. Get ready by 5:45. Gypsy arrives at 6"- made a mental note. The morning trip would be to a place called 'Bahmni Dadar' ( entirely Baekaa's idea considering he was the pro amongst us).
The chill was setting into the air and I suspected it was something around 5 or 6 degree Celsius. Thank God we had no way of being certain of the temperature!! That was one way of keeping warm. Ignorance.




to be continued.........................................

Under Streetlights

Blinking lights

Shrinking stars

Pavement looks behind

Miles left back,

Miles in front

A stranger comes to mind.

He, toothless, grins at

Shameless fate

An unheard malaise peeps.

In tattered clothes

With peace at feet

A naked beggar sleeps.