- So yeah

- what?

- so yeah

- what?

- the war

- what?

- the world war

- you're crazy

- think so?

- wanna bet?

- the war boy, the war, hellyeah do

- well shoot ye'self

- man, oh man.

Jawans

There are our jawans, brave but tarnished

On the frontiers and Siachen glacier, they toil and spend.

Months of varying temperature shower upon them

Yet they stand with immunity and what with their grace!

Yes, now, few do peek at the nameless question:

They, no doubt have a family; their children must be proud?

It sparkles very commonly now: India and Pakistan

Brothers but bloody brothers, sigh, what future intends us?

Their truth, our truth; claims and disclaims; fiction and non-fiction

If this is what we are headed to, we cannot be better dressed.

Deep hurt. Who is so much? Government? People? Paper or trees?

No. Would not so much hurt us straight. Later. The children on the horizon.

Peace and harmony is the solution; much heard, goes unseen.

They sacrifice, we deliver only for happy sleep and avarice.

Debates, blame-politics, insufferable-confronts, tweets, comments

Pour and out-pour. The gloom over us, to be extinguished

Is only fumed further.

I fell in love

but I never told

sat back—

and wrote morose.

I was romantic

from the beginning

nobody noticed,

sat back—

and they labeled me stupid.

How it changes,

how everything changes,

you do not see it

neither do you feel,

you just look back

and wonder how different it is.

I asked—

why be so reflective?

life is meant and needs must be,

accept or deflect

or straightaway be a fugitive.

How factual,

how practical

it is

today;

I love you,

I love you too, babe:

End scene.

Rajmachi Trek

In mist and drizzle
On rugged mountains of Sahyadris
Dew from leaves did trickle
We walked away
The path ahead unclear.

The ground was seething
With greenish turf
Cliff, at all times teasing
Beckoning forward
Dare did not we, freezing.

Flooded with Sonki, Wild flowers
With waterfalls we took selfies
The paranormal wind, mind-blower
Maggie-junctions and laid-back foreigners
Our spirits did tower.

Many a balance gave away
When we tread on grease
And boulders heavy.
To photograph every beguile
I did long tarry.

Our mouths blew smoke
Chill outstripped us
Bare were we, lacking cloaks
Accomplished our feat
With feet tire-soaked.

A Marathi house welcomed us
With rice, chapatti, lentils
Group was in general buzz
I moaned at the taste
We did not part without fuss.

Same pursued path
Awaited us, seemed longer
Climbing down was apace
Chikkis, sugar-coated chocolates
Devoured; trains headed us home
Kissed goodbyes, murmuring
“This memory will last.”

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.