Tuesday, May 31, 2011

One summer night

To the call of a humid breeze

One pore opened and slowly

One drop of sweat formed,

Like some bitter dew

On the still paleness of your skin

Then another and another

And by some force, coalesced

Into a tiny rivulet

That flowed downhill

From the delectable valley

Towards your navel,

Moonbeams chased the drops on

Even as each follicle held it back

and I watched the night

suffer and age

In the heat

Thursday, May 19, 2011



Darkness descends

by soft, deft brush strokes.

Night touches the sky

like the gentle lines of kohl;

night is make-up time

for cities too.

A glittering tiara of street lamps

light up the wide avenues

and tuck away the dingy by-lanes.

Emerald, ruby and sapphire

the neons shimmer,

hiding the blotches

that mar the facade.

Feminine as they are -

to hide the acne of slums,

cities need a few layers

of judiciously applied


Last Night

Last Night

Last night

When clouds grey, bowed

And silent I mourning

Had clustered around the widow moon

And the wind was tired sigh

A firefly had wandered in to my room

Tired yet restless

Straying, lonely and defiant.

Its eerie green light

was a silent scream

A call

Of defiance yearning for tenderness

To envelop it.