Month: July 2021

I hide in the open
letting the rain curtain me
from eyes that probe
for signs that I weep for you

The tears don’t come
for you linger
long after the river
claims your ashes

Fuelled by memories
of a limitless love
I converse with you
in whispers and sighs

Seasons follow seasons
and they vie for my attention…
but our unending farewell
makes time stand still…

A sad poem…or a not-sad poem…
What do you think?

Well, love it or hate it, it’s finally here.
The monsoon is eagerly awaited and equally dreaded…
Loved because of what it means to agriculture and forests,
and to power generation plants;
Loathed because of the flash floods and landslides, the humidity
and how it strains drainage systems.

In this Haiku, I prefer to take a romantic view of the monsoon…

Sultry tranquil days
Nights of turbulent passion
Monsoon on my mind

What does the monsoon mean to you?

This city does not want you
now that its roads are paved
and skyscrapers stand tall
against the elements
that burn the skin off your bent backs
as you trudge on blisters
born of social apathy
and political indifference
towards villages that have
nothing that can keep you there.

Your DNA is imprinted
on the very bricks that
won’t house you.
Your sweat trickles
into the fissures
that you pack with concrete
which, once solidified,
will block you out
from the dreams that
you’ve always dreamed
but will never realise
because this city
does not want you.

The virus does, though.
It also wants the ones
who shunned you
when you had nowhere to go…
and when you get there,
it wants you too.