Losing Amma

I do not know why I am thinking about this now... It was a narrow, sharp bend. A blind curve where you wouldn’t see the vehicle until they were right on your face. But vehicles were at a premium that day after a local party had called a strike. Amma was catching my hand (or was it the other way around?) as we crossed the road. Opposite side of the road was the SBT Munnar branch, our temporary abode till we could find ourselves a jeep to take us around the town. When we reached the middle of the road an auto-rickshaw sprang out of the curve at great speed. I jumped back a couple of steps to where I was standing to avoid the on-coming auto.  The next thing I remember is seeing my mom standing there in the middle of the...

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The Moment

The door was shut. He was still inside. She wasn't going to let him go away that night. Not that he wanted to leave. Soon their doubts made way into explorations. With his lips he wrote on her cheek, "Who are you?" "How do I know you so much?" her teeth chiselled on his lips. For every question he asked, she answered in kind. Each time she pushed him away, her hands tightened its grip on him, asking him to stay. Over confusion, they bonded. In the uncertainty, they found assurance. They never talked, afraid that wisdom and conventions would take the moment away from the...

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Fireflies

I am a gypsy, I see firelies.Around me they twist and turn, like smoke at Palestine.Drifting from space to space, they carry light.I cannot help wonder. Does the wind guide you? Or you the wind?We met on a monsoon evening, in the city that never sleeps.You were lost in darkness, tremors the wind brought,Scared in a new surrounding, yet with excitement hard to hide,You had seen me sing the songs, of the far away land. I came to you like a firefly, for light I did bring to you.With wonder you had listened to sonnets and wits, gifts I had received,From places that you yearned to visit. But in our conversations, I fell in love and you fell in awe.There the mistake. For is it not wrong for the gypsy to fall in love?Like stone eyed Franky says, 'Do they even know what love mean?'Once struck,...

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Good bye

At 3:58 a.m she left me. Yes, at THREE FIFFTY EIGHT. 'Take care of yourself', she had said, while closing the door.Ah the sound of door crashing..The Sikh dude from English Patient had lost.He had stepped on of them.Those big nasty mines. Yes mines.Because Fuck English. A Mine is their biggest bomb.It was over. The good times. She had decided to leave me again. This time, more resolute, than the last. What she had thought, I would not know. Were my kisses not strong enough honey? Was I smelling of the blonde blonde you despise? What was it baby? What was it this time?At 2:58 a.m I had checked the time for the first time that night. And we made love....

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Dear Sheila

The number of times I have stared at the airplanes flying over our tiny house is incredible.  I look at them emerge out of the green eastern horizon (which has been quite mist-laden after you left the town) like a super fast sun and crash on the other side. In those moments I am filled with a feeling of hope. You do remember our sun right? Yes, yes the pun very much intended. The same sun which had invaded our little private moments on the terrace, like the security uncle downstairs, acted as if he had seen nothing. Well that sun has disappeared. Instead, there is grayness. Widespread and omnipresent.  It is slowly devouring our small town. Sometimes I am woken up by a dream. I hear screams and prayers. Is it a calling...The tree folk seem to have stopped fighting. The other...

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