What the Sun cannot see….

He made lot of money

You laugh at me my friend

Though she had never spoken to him
he could not forget the way she smiled
when she saw
him riding the bicycle for the first time

When she was going away to Nanded
– where is Nanded?
– Somewhere in Maharastra
he went to the railway station and saw

her sitting next to the window
in the train but she didn’t see him

He could not forget the smile

He went to Nanded a few days later
roamed the streets
stood in the hot sun in front of
some women’s colleges
had lunch in a small hotel
-the dal was undercooked
and came back

After so many years he still remembers
the smile she gave him when he rode
the bicycle
and also the fact that the dal was undercooked

“Don’t play the cut shot”
we told Bujji
whenever he played that shot
he ended up gliding the ball

into the hands of first slip
“It is a big score and
we don’t want to lose
you early”

“I will play only in front
of the wicket” he promised
but the third ball he faced
he played the cut shot and got
caught at first slip

We are one down already

I enter
your premises

dream mingled
cigarette smoke

tobacco tinged
smell of
tea

old waiter treating
everyone
with equal disdain

unknown person
sharing problems
with a complete stranger

as well as a cup of tea

display
housing
sweet relics
peculiar
to the tea shop

the din inside
soundproofing
the shop
against
the snarl
of external traffic

ever present group
at the same table,
dreaming dreams
that go nowhere

relief
on the face
of the man
sipping tea
from the saucer

to some
the Irani tea shop
is a brief invigorating
stop

to some others
the great escape

what is it
that brings me
here?

(Inspired by this picture of my friend Surya)

… but God
visibly whispered
….

Krishna
had rushed to greet him
inquired about his family,
recounted tales from their childhood
fed him till he could eat no more

and

had eaten
the rice flakes
that Sudama had carried

– A poor gift
from a working man

But to Krishna
it did not matter

Returning home
Sudama
had
an
uneasy feeling

As his weary legs
got closer home
he saw
his crumbling house,
his wife walking around
in her usual tattered clothes
and
his many children
shouting and fighting incessantly

everything was the same

washing his legs
Sundama thought about
the next day
and the struggles
it would
bring along

Silently,
Sudama
thanked Krishna

Written after seeing this image of my dear friend Surya !!

After devouring
immense knowledge
the mature Ananconda
sleeps

“She died last year.
Seems she had some health problem”,
he said,
“She never married”

I thought you had
died in me
long time back

Did I too
die in you
completely?

Now,
I will never know

– Long wait
for a short glimpse

– Preplanned
‘accidental’ meeting

– Infinite joy
upon a tiny smile

Long forgotten images
teach me
the eternal truth

One who has touched you
Never dies

About to leave for the office
with a cup of coffee in my hand
I stand on my balcony
surveying the tree tops

The flame of the jungle,
the resplendent marigolds,
and the violet flowers which cling
to that bare tree
as bees bunched together
in their honeycomb

All hide the chaos

Beneath me
the city growls
relentlessly
spewing hot smoke

Within a few minutes
I too will be lost
inside the belly
of this giant

I turn around suddenly
hearing an urgent ring tone
where there is none

the city
is
inside me