Call me by my name,
Please make sure
That I exist
In coiling streets
And stuffy traffic
When will I, for once,
Be missed?
The sun is rising
I am stepping
Down into another day
Bonds are formed
And then broken
But there is none
That I have made
Before I forget myself
I write fragments
Of poetry
To make sure that I exist
I am battered and bruised
Scattered and used up
All over these
Gritty bits.
Welcome to my land It's pretty Beautiful with shades of wealth There is nothing wanted/ Missing We're thriving in the pink of health Altercations, rumours, riots- Crafted by the Enemy states; We are happy, we are booming There is no need To dissent. No need to protest Systemic blows No need to ask for Employment No need to question GDP No need to push Our government For we are happy We are rising More than ever (Fresh statistics) We only need to Close our eyes And be a bit Optimistic.
My aloneness is an island Walls so high that a tsunami can't break it down My aloneness is naked I keep trying to clothe myself in strangers' words But my skeletoned yearning is exposed and loud It's battering my brain I am back this time again My aloneness is punching me to a pulp I have no memories to eat I am hungry and in need I think I'm going to throw up.
It was a large house
Airy, marbled, and windowed colourfully,
With gaudy furniture reeking of dowry;
It was a large house
Ornamental, but not beautiful,
Spacious and narrow-minded.
“Here is my living room, Vaani
The curtains are lavender for you
Take care of them, love,
This city is a den of pollution”,
He shakes his head;
“That is our bedroom, and I must say
Your parents bought a nice king-sized,”
And he flashes a slick smile;
“Those two rooms are
For our first and second sons,
They will be fair and beautiful,
Just like you,” he grins,
“You look even more lovely
When you blush”
“Where’s the kitchen?”
“Why the hurry? Here it is
That’s the room you’ll spend your life in
Because, frankly speaking, I can only make tea.”
I'm seeping into the soil My sky is green with the foliage of life The lack-forest of the city I have left behind So I lie on the ground My eyes closed, I am looking for the primeval scent No more the sooty smoke Of a fast-paced world I crave the forest so I paint it Green, dark, and thick with wisdom My skin settling into the earth Starts to tingle The beasts arrive with hungry jaws; Abiding by the forest's laws They jump to devour my flesh My end is dancing before my eyes In this forest of my making Perils of civilization Are nothing but wolves, Tigers, lions, and the like I feel better to give in to them Than to those of my own kind, And I meet my fate In the forest in my mind.
I'm stretching my smile to cover my face I'm blinking too, to punctuate your gaze I'm learning to stay and not say no Because I've learnt that I can't go Not when death is alive and cold Uninvited guest at our doors I will stay and learn your steps You will stay and hold my waist Us against the world, so naive; We kiss and love and stay alive.
When I turn my words into theirs
You’ll see that I’ve been heard
My fingers tracing the skeletons of books
Sunsets resting on my earlobes
Water streaming down my sloppy hair
It will all come back
When I’ll play around in their tongues
For you see, I will make myself a book
For everyone to read
You cannot escape me then
Can you shut your eyes and say
You’ve never heard of that story?
I will dance with your thoughts
Shedding skin in their tracks
A miniature version of torture
That you’re inflicting on me now
I’ll be out of print someday
And you’ll be the one
Madly looking for my manuscript
To finally collect my soul
You’ll make my words your own
You will come home.
Paint a pair of eyes on me
So I can look at the world and not fall apart
Dilute the blood of a rose
Sprinkle it on the glasses I wear
Make some goals for me
Add a spoonful of meaning
Yes, I’m asking a lot
But I want to be hopeful even when I’m not.
What makes me happy
Is what makes me sad
But what I regret are the feelings I never had
Am I just following my peers?
But I am still here
The road is too long and everyone’s ahead
Who will I be when I am but blank
Eyes emptied into screens
Memories of sand
I am not even
A palimpsest.
A charcoaled page,
Gone to waste?
I
I’m digging my nails deep into my flesh
For a treasure that was never buried
Neither a time capsule for lost memories
(Memories, which reappear as shadows every morning
Like a cobweb over my eyes, gone in the next blink
As I look up at the sun to confirm it’s a new day after all)
I keep moulding my form
Sandpapering furiously the veneer of my vessel
A glossed up eggshell a second away from breaking apart
And I keep hitting the soil of my skin
For the fresh splash
From my fountain of worth
All the roots I had planted in me
Are loosening into veins
They’re dropping out in the strands of hair I shed
I am rethinking all the words I have said
Or forgot to say
Scavenging for imprints inside my heart before it turns black
Tomorrow when I look up at the sun
All of this will be gone
Perhaps.
II
The sun shines down through the skin of air
I’m not the same vessel of thoughts
The senses in me are swirling up
I’ve learnt to feel,
An acquired taste it is;
I am so happily full of myself
That you, a cynic,
You, my past or my future,
Cannot touch my hair
I am here, I’m here, see!
My heart is softly beating and my eyes are bright
Today I am feathery brightness and glow
Today I’m here
And tomorrow I will be too.
Don’t be a metaphor-
“A flower trying it’s hardest to bloom
In the shattered cement ruins”
Be what you are
A woman of flesh and blood
Warring with words.
Your intangible insecurities, tangible tears
Your bleeding womb, intellectual fears
The friction of trying to transgress spheres
Makes you who you are.
Language may turn into metaphor
Or you can harden it into goals
In a void devoid of meaning.
What does it mean, to be feminine?
mimimusing 