Myriad

A land of villages, religions,

Festivals, shrines and youth.

From Narendra Modi to Rahul Gandhi

Pompous politics and piercing poverty

Everything you can find here

None can you fail to spot.

Bustling Bhojpuri to Kannadigas

To vulnerable Meithei and Mizo

Eight hundred and eighty languages

In twenty-nine states, packed with

Beliefs, attitudes, norms and karma.

From rooted misogyny to fierce feminism

Women politics and CEOs to glorified dowry

Everything was cultivated here

Things merged into sub-things

Goddesses worshipped, devadasis dismissed.

On caste commotion, Aryans blamed

Superior to suppress, fear of flame, exposure

These days, Brahmins also loud-speaker

Reservations, and more reservations

Youth only to sit back and bleat?

Lauded startups to screeching schools

Grinning faces of children, incandescent

Hope, hope do we

There subsists so many mores and folks

Who, when, where, and what do you

Find elsewhere which is so much here?

A Disgraceful Shadow

Then 'tis ought to be

Past me, behind me

Sideways, left and right.

Lurking, yes it does inside me

Inside and out

Mocking my stature

Black, dull black—

Want to hold it and hold

So tight, it tears from me

Tracks own path.

Liverish, when I look down

Intently it walks and walks

And stops when stops

Who are you?

Hair-brained Physics

Makes a tainted mixture out of it

Enlightens us, does it not

With metallic theories?

Shadow escorts

In violence, friendlessness

A vestige.

That splotch on mud

Who cares?

Fruitless stalker!

Headache

How does it start?

It is sly.

Like a millipede

Throbbing thousand times.

How do you feel?

Dizzy? Oh, no.

Nauseous? Not that.

Irritation? Far from it.

Then how it actually feels?

A tinge, it murmurs

At the centre

Screeching and scanning.

 La! What luck!

 When you got a headache.

 “Oh sweetheart, you’ve got a headache?

 Please rest and take care of yourselves.”

 You get that pampering

 It feels awesome.

 Not to do anything but

 Slump and stare at the ceiling--

 Scream at it to stop

 To stop that—agonizing

 Raw, stinging, ripping

 Ruthless pulse.

 You clinch your teeth

 Hard and harder

 To make it flee

 Alas! If only it was so meek.

 Then you start reminiscing

 About pleasant things.

 In the middle of it, you fall

 Asleep and it’s dead.

 If you’re at work

 Or have a deadline

 A cup of coffee (or chai)

 Or two will do for you.

 At the end of the day

 When you refresh and respite

 Headache may have vanished

 Or remained—

 All you will feel is

 Your triumph and how

 you worked hard despite it

 Will sink into still sleep.