Wednesday, October 25, 2017


अब जब में डरे बिना 
तुमसे प्यार नहीं कर पाती 
क्या में अनोखी हूँ ?

तुम्हारे तूफानी आंसू हर रात 
में अपने हातोंसे मिटाती हूँ 
क्या मेरा भाव अनोखा है?

उन्होंने जब मुझे वहां छुआ 
जहां प्रेमी छूते है, मैने सोचा 
क्या यह प्यार अनोखा है?

साल बीत गए है फिर भी 
वह यादें मेरे बदन में गुप्त है 
क्या यह कहानी अनोखी है?

कल में तुम्हारे रागसे अलग होकर 
राह पर मुडकर अपने आपसे पूछूँगी 
क्या मेरी ज़िन्दगी अनोखी है? 

Sunday, January 6, 2013

The Fake

At Qutub Minar

The Fake Empire
Boasting your greatness
For no one
But his, to take and plunder
Your savage rape
Of me, tearing walls.

The Fake Orgasm
At home you know
Behind doors
What takes place?
Your savage rape
Of me, empty heart.

The Fake Heart
Your dark heart
You fill it with dread
As you plunge it within me
Your savage rape
Of me, broken flower.

The Fake Guilt
I am filled with it
Oozing out of my eyes
No one caught them
Your savage rape
Dripping off my face.

The Fake Future
Bleak onwards
They will come lost
Cannot protect from
Your savage rape
Nameless, countless, endless

His forgotten, his lover
Their slave, their disdain,
Your disappointment, your insecurity

His to abuse, his to keep
Theirs to discard, theirs to sin
Yours to save, yours to forgive

You fear
You nothing
You crumbling

Sunday, September 30, 2012

When I Grow Up

When I grow up
I want to be a forester
Run through the moss on high heels
That's what I'll do
Throwing out boomerang
Waiting for it to come back to me

When I grow up
I want to live near the sea
Crab claws and bottles of rum
That's what I'll have
Staring at the seashell
Waiting for it to embrace me

I put my soul in what I do
Last night I drew a funny man
With dark eyes and a hanging tongue
It goes way bad
I never liked a sad look
From someone who wants to be loved by you

I'm very good with plants
When my friends are away
They let me keep the soil moist
On the seventh day I rest
For a minute or two
Then back on my feet and cry for you

You've got cucumbers on your eyes
Too much time spent on nothing
Waiting for a moment to arise
The face in the ceiling
And arms too long
I wait for him to catch me

Waiting for you to embrace me

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

On Farms and Forgetting

O come with me my little one, we will find that farm,
And grow us grass and apples there and keep all the animals warm,
And if by chance I wake at night and ask you who I am,
O take me to the slaughterhouse, I will wait there with the lamb

- Leonard Cohen, Stories of the Street

Thursday, June 28, 2012

The Pleasures of Being Home - Painting

 Some recent oil paintings. The elephant reminds me of a horrible accident that took place in India a few years ago where a train killed 7 elephants.

Broken Flower

Broken Flower

Elephant Memories


A Gondal Scene

The Painting Life

Sunday, June 3, 2012

To Belong

Recently, I have been struggling with a deep desire. The desire 'to belong'. The strength of this urge within me reminds me of the relentlessness of the existence of gravity. Feeling the pull of the earth beneath my feet through its rapid, rotational, roamings, and the restlessness of my life form, seem to inexorably pervade my reality. What crude, hippified words does this desire coerce me into using to express what I wish to belong to?

To Belong to a natural space that I am absorbed by
To Belong to a project (despite its futile-passion tendencies)
To Belong to an Environmental NGO or respectable Environmental thinker
To Belong to a community (that values my values)
To Belong to a lover (preferably mine)

What can I make of this desire? Let me start with its history. Is it new? Not really. You probably heard me drifting through the corridors singing, 'I am displaced, I am displaced...' by Azure Ray. How about psycho-analysing this feeling? Perhaps its another ego trip. 'Am I not special? Where is that place where I can find my dreamland, where I am the center, and will remain the center forever?' This may be partially true, undeniably. But I am not fully convinced.

What does it really mean to belong? Our helpful dictionary points us in one direction, "To be in its right place." This reminds me of Adrienne Rich's Politics of Location. To Rich, I am not merely a woman and identified so. But rather I belong to and I am created by the geography, race, caste, sex, political scenario, economic background, caste, facticity (things I cannot change about myself) etc. I suppose these make me and I am made by them. Perhaps I do not feel a sense of belonging, do not truly understand my politics of location because I have been lost in the sky of the abstract. A world of abstract ideas and concepts, where I became oblivious to even my being immanently an Indian and a woman. Feeling like a balloon trapped in an unclosed, container, I have floated away into the sky. Perhaps to escape unfathomable personal experiences.

There is also another sense to this urge to belong. It is a need to blend in, for the sake of others and myself, to create, to communicate. To become a community that cares. Carol Lee Flinders in her book, Values of Belonging explores the value system of human communities before agriculture and the system that has developed in the post-agricultural world. The hunter-gather lifestyle was dependent wholly on the values of belonging to your community which included not just your clan members but nature itself which was not separate the way we perceive it to be now. This is the sense in which I wish to belong as well.

Every damn thing within the ecological systems of the earth have their functional part. What is my part? How can I belong if I do not know my role or the habits I must cultivate to fit into my role? This is how I wish to belong.

Wise words from my mother when I expressed this need to belong;
"Everybody has a time in their life when they feel this urge, this desire, to belong. It is very important during this time to find something/someone you belong to. In time these things change and rigidity begins to creep in. Sometimes it is having a child that quenches this need for belonging because you find someone you want to live for. Rather than they belong to you, you belong to them."

Hmm... time to make 10 children. That makes me belong 9 times more than if I just had 1. Bah! No. Nein. Nahi.

I am going to do nothing for a while and see if belongingness finds me. If I am not lucky enough, can I create the belonged world for me? Perhaps.  

Saturday, February 11, 2012

A Friend Lost

Sweet friend
I have lost you
I am here now
Memories remain

Who were you?
Who are you?
Who was I?
Who am I?

I do not recognize you
Fire in your eyes
And in the mirror
I do not recognize myself

I must live speechless
Without you
Your listening ear
And caring heart

A river of pain
Can it be crossed?
A deep chasm
Can it be bridged?

Emptiness remains
You have gone
A missing friend
Learning to live

Might I hope

Tuesday, January 24, 2012