एक लाल लिपस्टिक आत्मन का त्याग राशन की भरमार। * रविवार की चाय, इस विवाह की बुनियाद।
किराए का मकान
“तस्वीरें मत लगाना
दीवारों को बचा के रखना
देखो कहीं cement न उतर जाए
अलमारी ज़रा हल्के से बंद करना
रंगों में क्या रखा है
सादे में सबसे कम ख़तरा है
बगीचा तो रहने ही दो
कहीं सीलन न आ जाए
और हाँ, ज़्यादा लगाव भी अच्छा नहीं
क्या पता कब notice मिल जाए!”
तुम्हारा दिल है
या किराए का मकान?
Poetry in Borderless Journal
Virginia, a poem that wrote itself through me one night this October, has found a place in Borderless Journal, a literary publication I have long admired.
Thank you, Borderless.
You can read read the poem here: https://borderlessjournal.com/2021/11/15/bloomsbury-myths/
Double standards
A song of despair
left my lips
as I watched you scream
at one who couldn’t scream back at you.
Then, someone whispered in my ear:
you’ve done it too.
And the song grew louder.
Juxtaposed
Juxtaposed we lie
you and i
Crumpled sheets
hiding a lie
But the universe
can see the truth
in our eyes
as we lie in each other’s arms, juxtaposed.
Face-off
No more hiding
behind white lies
that I play on repeat
in my head
which feels
as if it would crack open
from the sides
and the lava will pour out and scathe
my eyes
and ears
and seal my lips
so that I can no longer
speak excuses.
.
No more blame games
no complaints.
No more digging for places
to hide
from my own gaze.
No more death by analysis,
seeking refuge
in the crevices.
.
Act
or go up in smoke,
I see no other way –
for once I’m in the line
of my own fire.
Release
“With this we come to the end of this pretence. Now everyone may do as they please.”
Half the people left the party.
She & I
We walk together, hand in hand,
treading the narrow, covert lanes
that lead nowhere.
.
I like it here, she tells me.
I do, too, I want to say, but decide not to.
.
One delirious evening
I tell her I like the calm of these alleys,
that my eyes are now accustomed to the darkness.
.
Her face lights up with the knowledge.
She’s now certain
I will never leave her side.
.
But somewhere deep down she knows
one day I’ll be anxious to go,
to find some light,
just enough to light my path.
.
We walk for days.
I see a turn
that I know I want to take.
I pull away gently, she looks at me
with pleading eyes.
.
Come along? I ask.
She wilfully plies.
.
We step out into the world
as she nervously walks by my side.
It’s chaotic, she whimpers. Weren’t we
better off in the alleys?
.
I don’t know, I tell her,
but I do want to try.
.
So we set forth together,
hand in hand,
my anxiety and I.
स्त्री
उसे इतनी भी इजाज़त न थी
कि एक आह भर ले
उतनी देर में तो एक
रोटी सिक जाती है
Something broke…
Something broke
and I lay the shards
out in the sun.
I sat there watching,
letting my skin burn,
until the blood stopped flowing
and someone whispered in my ear,
‘go on, take shelter,
this is not yours
to mend.’
कपड़ा
बचपन में देखा करती थी
बीर दीदी और गुड्डी दीदी को
कपड़े की क़तरनें तार पर सुखाते
.
क्या हैं ये, सोचा बहुत
पर किसी से पूछा नहीं कभी
.
फिर एक दिन मेरी बारी आयी
कपड़ा ढूँढने, लगाने, छुपाने की
धोया और सुखाया तो नहीं कभी
(पुराने कपड़ों की घर में कमी न थी)
.
पर वो गीलापन
वो दाग लगने की tension
वो बैग में extra skirt स्कूल ले जाना
दाग न देख ले कोई लड़का
पूरा दिन घबराना
.
फिर आया pad का ज़माना
वो aunty की दुकान तक
पैदल चल कर जाना
और काला लिफ़ाफ़ा लेकर
छुपते छुपाते वापस आना
.
पैड भी कोई नई मुसीबत
से कम थे क्या
लगा कर देखो
घंटे भर में रो पड़ोगे भैया!
.
कभी कभी सोचती हूँ
ईश्वर क्यों देता है
इतनी छोटी उम्र में
इतनी परेशानी
जवाब मिलता है —
यह तो है स्त्री शक्ति की निशानी
.
हँस देती हूँ अंदर ही अंदर —
बच्चियों की परीक्षा है यह
और कुछ नहीं
सत्रह का होने तक रुक जाता
तो, हे ईश्वर, तेरा क्या जाता?
.
आज पैड ख़रीदने में शर्म तो नहीं आती
काला थैला दुकान पर ही छोड़ आती
.
पर, हे ईश्वर
सशक्त हूँ मैं अब,
आपकी इच्छानुसार!
.
यह शक्ति अब ले लो वापिस
और कर दो मुझे आज़ाद।
thesaurus
Respite
Escape
Relief
Revenge
Rebellion
Grief
Elation
Release
Regret
Celebration
Longing
Dope
Love
Reproach
Medication
.
There’s a secret world
where I call my food
a thousand sweet names.
You got it all wrong.
Wilful Defaulter
A half-baked, half-burnt cake
lies in the bin
where no one can see it
but only smell
its barely alive flavours.
.
I look at the clock.
It’s half past ten, time for
another cup of tea infused
with just the right amount of ginger
and some more me time.
.
I sink into my favourite end of the couch,
the one with crumbs
from last night’s dinner.
.
I order a cake, and the world
is suddenly an easier, nicer place.
.
My tea is now just the right temperature.
I wash down mom’s guilt,
one sip at a time.
.
In the motherhood universe,
I’ve yet again turned
a wilful defaulter.
All is Well
Lapsus calami | Slip of the Pen 