poem
Poetry / Ghostly tenants
My father speaks in a dismantled language that goes up in smoke.
Poetry / The song of freedom
the bullet hole/ in my brother's chest/ unfolds like a pandora's box
POETRY / Prayers of a mother for the sons and daughters on the street
justice—where is justice?
POETRY / Rebel is a letter in red
Where voices unite, a chorus strong, / Demanding justice, righting wrong
POETRY / Lone house around the bend
Your grief rots the decades old paint and the lakhri no one bothered to replace. Even across the road, it reeks of death.
POETRY / The three day wake
‘You must bury / yourself / Every three days’ / She said, / ‘Corpses are of / No use
POETRY / Colours
Echoes of your voice ring in my ears / As the world turns scarlet in front of my eyes
POETRY / Monsoon osmosis
I inhale the luxurious scent / of squelched earth / smoking under the sodden leaves
POETRY / Wonder
I feel my rage, ma, a living thing;/ A beast, caged, like me
All that I’d despicably known / Things I wish I didn’t know
All that I’d despicably known / Things I wish I didn’t know–
Omniscient
Skin sticky with perspiration from a long month of June
The things I wish I had never known
I skip talking to myself for hours / The “me time”, before going to bed
The golden hat
It was not a question one would ask as he did/ With his round glasses at the end of his nose
burnt honey
i quite like the smell of cloves, even more when they're burning/ turning charcoal in front of my eyes
Raw Magnolias
This is a garden, these are my petals; this is my armoring plant
Shut your eyes to dance away the rainy nights
Shut shut let me shut my eyes, for even though / the dawn confiscating the dusk’s shades of greys arrives, / there is no place for me
The searing beast
Sweat beads upon my brow, my shirt begins to cling/ The vile monster's tendrils reach out, adhesive
I've seen love
I've seen love/ Rolling down from a mother's eyes/ As she picks her lean child, bathed in innocent blood
No longer eighteen
like a caterpillar cocooned into its shell undergoing metamorphosis—growing up sneaks up to you whether you want it or not
