LOVE, THAT FLIGHTY JINN

 

 

  I would have liked to live forever within

  the opaque glass walls of your love.  Seeing the world

  through misty eyes.  The sun's heat

  softly tempered to my back.  The rain,

  a distant, soothing patter.  Not a drenching torrent

  churning rivers of mud and slime

  to drown in.  But

  the mist holds demons. Their cries

  will not be stilled.  And glass is fragile

  Even a single stone‑‑carelessly flung

  can shatter this sanctuary  we built

  You and I‑‑

  out of the power of our dreams

  this vapourous castle

  which can stand‑‑

  only till the magic lasts.

 

  Loving, my faltering steps take root

  reaching, touching

  my heart, a wing, a feather  

  caressing you.  All night…

  your warmth filling me.  Battling

  the shuddering dark

  that waits, a patient hungry dragon

 

  But…

  love, that timid bird

  that flighty jinn.  Comes

  to roost only when it wishes

  Not in response to my call

  or yours

  No matter how urgent the need

  No matter how desperate the hour.

 

 

 

 

 

I HAD A FATHER

 

 

  When I was young and had a father

  Like any other child.... I

  clutched his hand.  Walked

  by his side.  Hung on his smile

  watched the crow's feet fan out

  from the ends of his eyes

  Felt love

  a velvet cushion

  a tight roof against the rain

  a warm hand to hold

  and melt the ice of fear

  But one day‑‑

  the roof blew off

  the hand grew cold

  and nothing was left

  but leafless trees

  stretching wan fingers

  that tore at my hair

  as I walked through the darkness.  The bell

  tolling in my ears constant...insistent

  The moon, a dented globe

  Washed out, spreading

  rancid, milky light

  that filled my mouth with sourness

  I heard the sound of weeping

  and wailing

  White walls of grief

  arose about me

  smelt fresh earth

  felt the horror of

  Clods

  hitting him.  Boxed in wood

  lifeless, true.  But I shuddered

  to think of the clods hitting him.

  Later, woke on my own nights

  airless, feeling the weight of the earth

  squeeze out my breath

  engulf, absorb me into itself

  Earth, mother

  what makes you so hungry

  so desperate to swallow me whole?

  Digest, ingest

  make me a part of you again?  

  I that would walk on air

  And water

  resist your pull

  Live on forever

  freely riding the wind.  Not

  bogged down in earth bound clay

  Live till the day when

  the grave will empty

  and he, they, will come forth whole again

  when mud, when clod

  will yield forth

  flesh and blood

  bone and hair

  breath and laughter

  I await the miracle

  the Resurrection and the Life

  The rebirth of long lost love.

 

 

 

 

A PEARL WITHIN AN OYSTER

 

There is a place

Where jewelled cobwebs

Dot the hillside

My father’s smile

Never wavers

And the rocks

Feel solid beneath my feet

The mist swirls in the valleys

A potent sea

Spewing stories

Which my brother

Conjures out of the vaporous void

A magician

Spinning a different web each day

And yet it is I

Who tell tales now

Fishing in that timeless sea

Of the past

Finding

Old shoes

A rotted corpse

But sometimes

A pearl within an oyster…

HOME IS HOME

 

 

Strange things happen

In the sweepers’ colony

TV aerials sprout

Music blares

And a child defecates

In the open

While an eager pig

Waits

To gobble it up

 

The same porker perhaps

Is given hot chase

To the ends of the town

Captured

Brought squealing

To its death

And blood spurts

A mighty fountain

Pulsating

As the sound of drums

Of revelry

That night

In the sweepers’ colony

 

The pup we adopted

My brothers and I

Saved from rock pelting boys

Cherished

Slept with at night

Was declared

Persona non grata

When the ayah said,

“Memsahib, that pup belongs

To Chandru the sweeper.”

 

Kripal, who wields the broom

With a mighty flourish

Raising huge clouds

Of obfuscating dust

Got ambitious

Actually landed a job

As a waiter

In the casteless city

Delhi

Graduated in time

To the German Embassy

And one day, he said,

“Hang on to the children, wife

I’m off to Germany.”

 

Within a year

He was back

Scattering garbage

Raising dust

“I didn’t like

the German desh,” he said

“Home is home

after all.”

 

Even if home is…

The sweepers’ colony.

 

 

 

IN THE TIME OF MANGO BLOSSOM

 

In the time of mango blossom

Pain stabs

A pale spear

Like the scented spikes

That weight the tree

As eager

Breathless

It awaits

Fulfilment

The yearly ritual

The time of fruit

 

Our time was a flower

That bloomed

And withered again

But—

The seed remained

Dry, insignificant

Almost unseen

And yet—

It held promise

Of life

Of blossom

Colour, fragrance

Within its husk

 

The thoughtless wind

Tears the flower apart

Scatters its petals

But…

The seed rides its back…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do Not Weep Lonely Mirror

 

 

The mirror in which I sought myself once

Sought me in turn, when spurned

Its emptiness grew too vast for it to face

Emptiness, that black hole into which we must fall

Each one of us

The mirror pursued me even as I fled it

Time’s wrinkles embedded deep in the

Coils of my being

I fled the truth imprinted on its shining glass

The truth of countless lies

That rustled like the fugitive wings of birds

Evading the trapper

Not knowing how futile my flight

Because

The world might be large but

Mirrors are everywhere

And truth, the chameleon finds many places to hide itself

In the starlit eyes of a lover perhaps

The trusting warmth of a child’s palm

The adrenaline burst of the winning post

Or the murky pool of failure

Even in the flashing pane of a neighbour’s window

Or the reckless flow of your pen across a page

 

I could not escape, and yet how long is it

Since I have known that the face in the mirror

Is not my own

Not the girl who wept in the dark once

Or boarded a train on a winter morning

Basking in the sun’s warmth

The woman who found babes in the wood

Under a coverlet of fallen leaves

Or listened to the urgent summons of a conch

Bellowing in the dark behind hidden doors

Who knows where it is, the face I would call my own

If not in the mirror that faces me?

It is enough that it exists

Whether flowing secretly in the veins of a leaf

Blowing in the dust of a storm

Or gleaming in a sunset cloud

So do not weep lonely mirror

Nothing is as complete as emptiness

Nothing as loud as the silence that speaks

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A POEM IS A STRANGE THING!

 

 

A poem is a strange thing

Sometimes

Bursting out

Whole, complete, perfect as a newborn babe.

 

Sometimes

Carefully cut to measure

Like a garment

Lovingly crafted

Embellished, embroidered

And proudly worn.

 

Sometimes

An abscess

Growing, suppurating

Then bursting open

To spill its pain

For all to view

 

Sometimes

A skeleton

Festering in one’s cupboard

Till it’s brought out

To face the sharp cold glare

Of friendly faces

Who cry,

So—

This is what she has been hiding all this time!

 

 

 

 

 

MISPLACED SOUNDS

 

 

A girl with naked eyes

                           sings

at my window

                       a song

only I can hear

                          a song

that the wind

gathers into its wide apron

and funnels into my reaching ears

which do not need a  hearing aid

                         like my mother’s

                                              did

                                  like  my mother

whose world grew small and secret

                             as it grew still and soundless.

                                           Each day

the birds withdrawing their music.

                                           Each day

sound shrivelling like a dying seed,

           as she watched faces frowning,

                as she watched faces smiling,

                          and each day

 she frowned and smiled

                                       along with them.

                                                    Along

with the fleeting memory

                            of the renegade sounds

that had escaped the labyrinths of her ears

to prowl like vagrants

on the highways of the air.

 

 2.

 

The whistling thrush trills no more

as it dips its turmeric coloured beak into the puddle

below the garden tap.

                                     The tap

has vanished along with the sounds

that fled my mother’s ears.

Vanished along with my mother

who followed those sounds.

There’s nothing but dust where it stood

and there’s nothing but dust where she stood.

And black as the granite that holds her memory

is the void beneath the water tap,

black as the glistening thrush’s wing

is the void that has eaten up its music.

 

3.

                                                    But

a girl’s voice

                             still

floats across the dark waters

rides the air waves naked as day.

                              Sharp

as the unheard song

that echoed in the abandoned labyrinth

                          of my mother’s ear,

and

somewhere…

                     my heart beats so distant,

yet its whisper stamps itself on my page.

 

 

 

THE GHOST OF CHRISTMASES PAST

 

1.

One day, Papa said, he decided

to give up cigarettes. From forty a day,

he came down to none. Only

on Christmas Day,

when the swarm of visitors has diminished

to a select few

sipping their rum in the exhausted drawing room

does he pick up a Capstan Navy Cut

from the carved Kashmiri box

and blow smoke rings for our delight.

While a lonely piece of cake

sits on a chipped plate

surrounded by indifferent crumbs.

 

The Big Day has not ended we know

we have yet to negotiate the rocky path

to the brightly lit room

where Santa Claus will distribute gifts

for a price:

poems squeezed from reluctant minds

mimic songs that have long forgotten their tune

but I cannot, I will not parrot ‘Daffodils’

not even to earn a gift. Rejected, it lingers

under the Christmas tree,

another lonesome participant in a festive rite

lies there accusingly as I lurk sullenly in the shadows.

 

Ishwar chho mero gwalo

kai baate ki kami raunli

The Lord is my shepherd

I shall not want.

but I want, I want, I want

an unconditional gift, Lord

from the night which sucks up fading carols

and flings them among

the silent pines. Already

a ghost, Christmas is slipping away

searching for its past,

amidst the cake crumbs, gift wrappings

and the cigarettes in the carved Kashmiri box.

 

We will smoke them my brothers and I

alone on New Year’s Eve

we will blow foetal smoke rings

aborted by choking coughs

which drift heavenwards to join

the Christmases gone. And

the New Year arrives stamping in on frozen feet

singing,

Ishwar chho mero gwalo

The Lord is my shepherd,

I shall never want, I hope

for unconditional gifts.

 

2.

Papa decided to give up cigarettes

I have given up sugar for brief intervals

even forsworn alcohol—moving around

in a haze

batting away invisible smoke rings

that coil like persistent ghosts. Like

the ghosts of Christmases which live

only in the past. Without any future.

 

3.

But will any sacrifice help a child

who shivers in the alien dark

too distant and too alien

for mortal eyes

does the Lord accept trade offs

as they say? Or does he cheat,

as I suspect? A fast for longevity

a fast for good health

but can a hollow belly

bring joy to a marooned child?

 

Questions cluster like smoke rings

stinging my eyes.

I cannot ransom the marooned child

I cannot return to the smoke filled

drawing room with its scent of rum

the chill warmth of its glowing embers

turning to ash, grey

as Papa’s hair.