the last sin
  pale ashen sky
a bleary eye
clouds of recurring screams...
i am a zoo
  an octopus leviathan
tentacles into an ocean
of unformed emotions...
syphilis and love  
  syphilitic pall
stifles the clear blue
i contort...
shell and pearl
  amidst highs and lows
in life's ocean flows
a shell peony-mouthed...
i am an unmarried mother
  fed on stings
of barbed milk morality
my child-plankton...
the lovers
  cell upon cell
bridge of their union
hung on the pillars...
  ogre of age
and time cavil
at a warm picture...
the young today
  innocence thaws
at the altar
of ambition...

Happy Holi 

I remember those mirthful days of childhood
When we gathered wood in a small town next to Ganges
And burnt a community fire over idle chatter
Good burns evil and children get a refresher
Today in our teeming metropolises we burn
Brides and innocence
People play Holi with frenzy
Bereft of meaning Bhaang is cool
Hiranyakashipu now wears starched white dhoti-kurta
And sometimes a band gala or a safari
Spitting paan in decrepit corridors of power
Soiling our collective conscience
We could do with Narasimha’s new avatar
Or if he is busy cleansing the universe
A garland of Jasmine will do
Fire or flower

India awaits a Holika dahan

20 March 2011