Wednesday, March 08, 2017


For a Woman's Day special Open Mic poetry night at the Tuning Fork on 6th March, 2017, I chose to versify this article of mine and well, read it.

It’s Woman’s Day! It’s Woman’s Day!
And as a thinking, feeling woman, 
I’m expected to think and feel
(And maybe even dance around a little)
And proclaim my womanhood. 
But today I think I’ll dance a backward dance
Hold a top-down stance
And start at the end of this story

Let me first undress 
Wipe off that lipstick, scrub off that makeup
Maybe cut off all my hair
And the seduction tied to it.
Let me take off my jewellery
The dangle of earrings, the tinkle of bangles
And everything that chains me
To your ideas of beauty. 
Here comes off my saree - pallu, choli and all
And with it the curves, they so famously adorn
I unclasp my bra, and throw it on the floor
And with it these breasts
That hands of men hunger for
Now I take off my panties, and with it my vagina
Shutting shop for all manner
Of pleasure and pain
And finally, watch me
As I rip off that uterus and the expectation
That it will one day produce heirs. 

Naked and shorn of every notion
That makes me a woman, 
I am now ready to celebrate
With just my heart in place. 

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Distances - a poem in two parts

{part 1}

{part 2}

Distance is a difficult tongue
hard to learn, like most things after 30
Despite the mispronounced and misunderstood words
I find myself persevering

I take careful notes
of things that convey distance
of things that may lessen them
I find myself measuring the spaces

Between the faithful's forehead
and a prayer mat
Between a teacher's anxiety
and a student's success
Between the change in a schoolboy's pocket
and the samosawalah outside the gates
Between one casual insult
and a well-thought out spite 
Between the mother's breast
and her wailing infant's mouth
Between promises made in good faith
and realities that rendered them false

I learn how to wait
and find ways to ford the distance
between the day we decided it wouldn't work
and today, when we know that nothing else will

Friday, February 03, 2017


Ten floors down is a bed of flowers
You know they don't seem too far
I can almost smell them up here on the ledge
So sweet, they're almost pungent.
Like love. Everything's like love.

The wind brings crazy things with it
along with the smell of roses..
that teen next door's angry music, 
a hawk with a half-eaten rat,
the noise of neighbours who have loud sex.

Today I'm hoping it'll bring me more
than just its bag of cheap tricks
a little quietude? Perhaps some sleep?
I haven't really slept since you left.
All I do is dangle my feet in this nothingness

Ten floors down is a bed of flowers
I remember you loved looking at them
And that's all I have left of you - a view of the roses
That's all I think I'll keep of you
What's that I hear you say? Jump?