There are somethings I am nostalgic about, and other things that I am not! They say, the immensity and intensity of India can never be forgotten, even if foregone. There is something indefinitive about being Indian, that cuts you out as Brown, right from toe to crown! Remember, those old school notebook covers? How brown they were? IContinue reading “What is homesickness, nostalgia…?: A poem “
Tag Archives: writing
This moonlight is not my delight!: A poem
(I am disgusted with Walter De La Mare’s Silver! WordPress, why do you always humour me the wrong way? Piss off!!!) I read a poem about the moonlight taking us all, man and woman, And filling the rivers, lands, and trees, with its soul. And I shuddered to think, that this may actually be an Age, where Man be betrothed to man, and will Continue reading “This moonlight is not my delight!: A poem “
The gressorial is more than the Camino way?: A poem
I dreamed of taking more than the Camino way… More than James’ way…Up from Santiago de Compostela, where the Cathedral of Saint James is located, to Rosslyn, with its motifs in stony grimoires of green men. And I thought: Was it about James the Great, or the real legend James the Lesser – James the Just to be exact,Continue reading “The gressorial is more than the Camino way?: A poem “
A matter of migration and Mum: A poem
I walked the streets of my neighbourhood, in Mumbai, along with friends; and we often went picnicking on the beachfront, sharing cigarettes, and birthday parties! We were a thick group, but didn’t realise how casually we fell apart! I had no sustained pattern of loyalties, allegiances (but for one particular friend); Even patriotism was a dim word only refreshed at the 15th of AugustContinue reading “A matter of migration and Mum: A poem “
This, my oath and missive: A poem
(Trump, strange negative things have been happening to my body with those two injections, it is a long list I cannot enumerate! Thank you. Must I bear the consequences for other people’s sins! And must I not take my own recourse to revenge(!) and continue to persevere to be patient at my own cost!) These bridges I will never burn, these beaten paths trodden The famished soul soContinue reading “This, my oath and missive: A poem “
I think of my options, after much patience and restraint!: A poem
The evil thief and treacheriser took all that was mine. In his hand, his rapining blade was his lease, his lifeline! God lived in spaces, heretofore, sublime! His cup was grail, and, in it, the swirling juices were divine! And such was misfortune, couldn’t call a free tune. Not even honey was sweet taste, when all was taken too soon! Job would rather be a hob(o)Continue reading “I think of my options, after much patience and restraint!: A poem “
Consubstantiation: A poem
Where does a beginning begin, if it is self-consolatory to pick up a piece in the middle and be lost in the impression that it is the beginning! If you can rally around the underscored fact that truth must have had a beginning itself… Or could it have zeroed in, becoming itself without a beginning, evolving out of a chasm ofContinue reading “Consubstantiation: A poem “
Dad, I fear this vessel of milk is splitting: A poem
I was locked in a dream, a consolate dream; that, though, you were lost to me in this lifetime, I thought I’d stumble upon you, somehow, in the alleys of time. As if in cavorting without a touted aspiration, I’d simply conjure up a fate! That, should you be in my arms, as my son again! The vainglory of this aspiration is all but in vain now,Continue reading “Dad, I fear this vessel of milk is splitting: A poem “
The truth is never appreciated; my kindness was always misjudged: A poem
You know, I have dabbled, at times, in self-praise; It was because, so often, my self-worth had taken a beating at the hands of the vilest treachery! I always felt the need to do what was imminent to the necessity of the day! And, for it, I discovered I was the bravest person in the world; but unacknowledged for it! You knowContinue reading “The truth is never appreciated; my kindness was always misjudged: A poem “
Dad, there is nothing hollow in the purity of belief!: A poem
O my poor Dad! What is the habitability zone? I gave you Olympus, but how could we have become like clouds dispersing from one another in the torrential rain? I am not going to freeze in such disparateness, I swear! I am not mothballing like an old trainwreck! All the inconvenience of the ages, all the trapezing and walking on Continue reading “Dad, there is nothing hollow in the purity of belief!: A poem “
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