Author Archives: montecyril

I point out to the blank uncoloured spaces of tomorrow, lying in my bed like the body close to me, I never had. And yesterday draws me out like a wormhole parading to me pictures – call it imagination, illusion, fantasy, hallucination! The memorabilia of ideas falling like autumn leaves to make a carpet ofContinue reading “Ode to Salvador Rodrigues: A poem”

(Based on a song: Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard and Marketa Inglova (2006) I knew you, like a million dreams, from cotton clouds to spring, that I wore on my soul like colours that were staidly falling slowly. I didn’t count the seasons but gently played their rhythms to understand that as we drifted away,Continue reading “Falling slowly: A poem”

I thought I saw you in the stillness of my reflection; and remembered how you formed me, and I formed you. A beginning of sorts, but a continuum of a mountain with its head in the clouds and its flanks moving into an endless undulating plain! Its forests, on the slopes, symbolising the growth inContinue reading “The uniqueness of our beginning and continuum: A poem”

If I should pluck a star from the sky And toss and turn it in my palm That one act of selfishness could mean everyone should die! If I have patience(‘s) and sublimeness’ card up the sleeve of my arm?! Do you think the brave should be so much of a martyr that he mustContinue reading “Like the universe is both curved and flat…: A poem”

I am in hot sandy playing fields where the cotton clouds always make way for lucid skies in the heat of May. A country of lasting childhood memories, of lazy winds swirling around mango trees, and the regular visits to the beach. And the evening gathering at the `copel’ to pray to Mother Mary andContinue reading “A tale of a village home, and two cities: A poem”

What is a word, Mother? Is it as conflagrated with hope as a promise? How do I even define you, Mother? Does a word suit you like sublime? How should I use a paraphrase, Mother? That we are all predicamented by circumstance And should we follow it up as a duty to fate? What phoonContinue reading “There are unacknowledged but telling epitomes, Mother: A poem”

I am standing like a sycamore at your door Like a Nataraja-dervish asking time its score These numerous arms flaying in the Universal roar And all this rhythm and blues is all way before the birds come out of their nests at sunrise I am listening to a heartbeat amid a trillion cries Even asContinue reading “What is my fate? When is the date?: A poem”

I said, once back, I was a dragon Did I say it just for fun? I was on the run, on the run Till I fought back like a top gun! I went to the TV shop and got a HiSense; To the Chinaman did it make sense? I guess for them all I makeContinue reading “Chin(a) up or chin(a) down, here I frown!: A poem”