Tuesday, April 30, 2013

A slum in Jehangirpuri

Who on first glance would think you
a place of shelter
or someone's home

you offer open access
to everyone

inviting everybody

you are confident
and humble

you beckon
and with each invitation
you laugh out to yourself.

The Foghorn

Built not to move
built to be regarded

built to see
built to guide

though the ruins
of many centuries

wash up against
your feet

no wave has ever
succeeded at erosion.

Monday, April 29, 2013

Table Top

Who might do a better job than me
to define a surface neat and clean

So I want you to come trace my edges
and tell me what more I can say.

Light Bulb

To get to where I need to go
I find the best way

Because I provide illumination
inside dark corners

I am given preference
and I take up residence

I reach home first
no matter what.

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Telephone booth

If I'm really that upright
why can't I get

the voices at the other end
out of my mind?

Pressure cooker

I have closed the pan
which I honestly felt too open,
too exposed for my taste

but I do offer a safe home
for a man's right to dream.

Saturday, April 27, 2013


You remain nowhere-
in here. you are. you are not.
you disappear/ it's no trick

is that your reality?

distance. nil. weight. none.
years go by
but you remain
till the last breath.

they blow smoke rings
that look like you
finding their way.


You operate by yourself
you arrive
entering and returning
by your-self

all the logic
you multiplied by another
you divided by another
remains you

are here now
you are not me
I am not you

Friday, April 26, 2013


It was all black
so we lit a candle

we placed it on the table
and sat by it quietly

for the wonderful joy
of watching the flame.


In the middle of the orange
there was yellow

In the middle of the yellow
there was white

a white so pure
that it stands out

and it stands up
in a way

that you can't strike it
like you do
a man with your fist.


There were flowers
with which you loved me

flowers that you said grew
by chance in the forest

your flowers wanted to take me
to that land where
the secret of your red is hidden.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

The Earth

It seems the trees
and the fruits
keep a secret, and

by touching them
and eating them

they reveal stories and anecdotes
things we never knew

things you never shared, like
how you feel about yourself.

The Mountain

You must be something
of the nature of God

your daunting height
your power without hands,
or grip

without a purpose

beauty that
time won't destroy.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Paper Verses

Before you started
cutting paper into kites

I remember you often
returning to your notes

your homage to the future
shaking in the wind.


It's somewhat easy
to enter your space
and be near you

you don't resist
you smile and accept it
but it's to scratch your surface
you remain lost to me

I am so near you now
almost touching your void.

Monday, April 22, 2013



do you recognise it
from your past?

as your melted glacier?
your swollen sea?

coming down from her exile
up in the heavens
removed from her history

coming down at once now
to strike you
and soothe your body.


All you have
to cover yourself
is an orange burst in the sky

some clouds of white froth
shuffling in the wind

when you dream of much more
you dream more seriously.

Close to me

There are moments
when you are
so intensely there

close to me
within me
even in your absence

that I drift into dreams
and fall asleep happily

with your soft voice
and your body nearby
enveloping me.

The Insider

You are inside
to escape your own noises

and hold in your depth

as much silence
as the earth

you give enough time
to study the sky

enough time
to watch it fade away

and then you don't wish
to go beyond

what you don't know
what isn't there
what doesn't exist.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

The Buddha/IV

My apartment of silence
Is shaped like a circle

I stay on the periphery
and never at its centre

it's a place where I am
free to travel
along the edges of home

where nothing is boxed
and everything comes around
and everyone reaches me.

The Buddha/III

I am ready to embrace
to immerse
and it doesn't matter
into what or how

I would realise
and finally merge

with you
the source of what I am
and whatever it is
that I have always needed.

The Buddha/II

I entered with closed eyes
and thinning light

into silence
for silence

the silence
I created
within myself

I travelled far
expanding space


the land of nothing
but a single tree
which revealed to me
something of itself.

The Buddha/ I

I searched for a stream
with a soft voice
and broad shoulders

I drank from her shores
I dived right in

I rejoiced
dreaming, full


I went down that stream
and found myself

Saturday, April 20, 2013


You're the tree
I planted as a child, I wonder

what if you don't recognise me anymore
that I mean nothing
I am nothing
to you?

What if you don't remember
the plant I watered
or the fruits I nourished
with you?

What if you gave me
a vacant look
when I rest my back
in your shade?

I think we would still
be related
in so many ways
and much more than others.


I've long admired the forest
been in awe


It knows everything
It's seen the darkest hour
it doesn't have an address
it's got no heirs
and no bills to pay

It has no fear.


When I called out
to the forest

it only sent back a hollow sound
and some sleep


with the next day's sun
there was green

green everywhere

and I thought of you
only you

The green was a sign
that you're near
you are coming

that I am awake.

The grand design

Highways that grow into
the city's grand design

are a living symbol
of enterprise and ambition

presentations, meetings
structure, plans

emails, jpeg images
make the highway

But it's also something else
it takes shape with the man
who handles the concrete
fixes the pillars
piles out the dust

that man is inside
and the highway
still remembers

his face.

White Noise

I am immersed
in sound

the volume goes on rising
like a climax
reaching higher

I know the next will be louder
when it resumes

to conquer
to reign, and


to lead back
to what is silent.


The sky
threw me a kite
flaming red
with no apparent claimant

It will be a long time
before I'm finished
with this kite

which refuses to tell me anything.

Friday, April 19, 2013


Do you have
anything in common
with the future?

Is it like a fairy tale
which turns into a land of magic?

or does it seem like a heavy door
which refuses to open up?

Does it take up
more space than necessary?

Would you rather be left alone
and see yourself
somewhere else?


He is a friend
who keeps calling
keeps you in sight

offers you comfort
and tells you stories
of a time
when your body loosens up

he summons you
in the morning
makes you move

he keeps an eye on you.


In time, there is nothing but you
the sea
nothing but waves

flaring up in blue
crashing into rocks

nothing but the fact
of your openness, your presence
your call
that life is, as ever
alive and kicking

that life is a song

to be shared, and for some time
to be lived.


The morning is like thirst
a huge empty sea

and time to dig up earth

time to act
to dig up the sea

to dream with the sea
to drink empty spaces

Thursday, April 18, 2013


What we couldn't carve into stone
and stamp on paper
what doesn't move on grass
or wall, or in trees

that which is unsure
and forever changing

always fighting and trembling

then, must be in us.


When we searched for clear sky
on the fringes of town
we came upon a night
so clear

that the world was
a galaxy of many stars

and it was hard to point out
the few among us
that were plagued.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

The loneliness of memory

They live alone in his head
it's hard for them

they have to carry
on their shoulders
what he went through

and compress the long journey
of several decades
into minutes

they amuse themselves with
stories long forgotten

they get angry at incidents
now pointless

they live in circles
in circuits
of dead autumn leaves
and growing decay.


In wheat stalks
that rise to the sky

and in lakes
that float into sleep

I live in pebbles
that study the ocean

and flowers
that dream of rain

I live
in prayers that speak of you.

The Unicorn

I see on the surface
what forms inside me


within my inside reflects
the surface image

the joy of a temple chant
announces my arrival

lingering between me
and the god I behold


not like space
but like a web

I will usually avoid
all that burns
or freezes under

I am used to
a moderation
unlike my own

I hesitate to climb into
things that move quickly
I prefer the easy pace
of slow summer days

try as you may
you won't make me leave


I like to leave, sometimes
if leaving is what it will take.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013


was always possible
specially in our heads

what was tough

was how to translate it for today
into trees and people
into kindness

but nourishing it for ourselves
we were good at.


They are silent, attentive
they listen to every sound
and absorb inside them
the loudest note

they keep nothing
except their size

and take in their stride
the harshness of suns
the impatience of tides

the earth is of them, of their dust
and their lucid madness.

The Fringes

The limits of darkness
the circles of darkness
till the farthest point

The Fringes

near the faraway light
so far, so remote
so far fetched

that I cannot imagine
thinking clearly there.

Monday, April 15, 2013


I wanted to see you
so I turned without thinking, vacantly
to the deep end of the horizon


ever since
I have watched, in awe
your infinite grace
and ecstatic light.

The television, seriously

The television is innocent
It's made of polished steel

It survives on borrowed voice
forgetting its metal

it's rancour
is without power
It wants nothing more
It owes nothing more

It contains its own madness
self-sufficient and harmless

Sunday, April 14, 2013

The Letter V

I'm not like the letter O
perfectly formed

but I enjoy being angular
quirky and unpredictable
I usually stay aloof
and when incited
I attack with my sharp edge

later when I calm down
I again shut up

and become elusive
carefully guarding the end
always open
to the world outside.

The Letter B

I sometimes wonder
how straight lines feel
bumping into themselves
at the bottom of every curve?

and if that's not enough
they continues to swing again
after being so rudely put off.

The Letter W

I get tired walking all the way up
my two small summits
and it's scary to slide
all the way down

my two hollow valleys
give me the small hope
of stopping
and the illusion of repose

The Letter O

You've got the good fortune
to hold depth
on your surface

a fullness that's based
on a single line
where no escape is possible
into another form

your motionless back and forth
nourishes you
at each of your points

the depth of your body
is peaceful, almost soulful,
and you can keep safely
everyone's secret.

The Letter A

Sometimes I wonder
how it might feel
to be glued together like you
than living life
in broken straight lines

I don't even remember
who cut me up

Sometimes I wish
for want of being an integrated whole

to pull my pieces together
and feel like you feel
stuck together.

The cities of remorse

I feel deep remorse for the land
of an endless river

The small bursts of rain
swelling up
into pools on the pavement

there I see you perfectly still
like the slum

there I see you stagnate
like squatters


When can I talk to you
If only for an hour
or a few stolen minutes


Without you having the face
of being so busy elsewhere?