Friday, April 15, 2011

Flower in the box

Sourness of an unknown tropical fruit took you through the colours of the the women's market.
You walked in trance passing Phaneks and faces wrinkled like intricate folklores.
In front of the Kangla Fort, you saw bare bodies of mothers screaming at the cold iron gate of a rapist state..
In Manipuri farms, rubik's cube of political strategy lay shattered with blood clotted all around it..
Snakes slithered through your dreams as you clutched the pillow for help..
You watched thousands of Jasmin flowers blooming in distant lands, while the flower of Manipur waited inside the old steel box of inexcusable insensitivity..
Irom Sharmila Chanu..
Unstaged .. unnoticed .. she is waiting..

Sunday, February 20, 2011


There was a place where I used to hide..
The place where I was assimilated with the melancholy of loneliness.
Under the creaky bed, where the spider with zebra stripes lived.

I lay there watching the theater of feet and slippers, fought with invisible enemies and watched the spider as he waited for his prey.
I wanted to take my little brother to my world.. To the source of the stories which I told him before we went to sleep..

One day he saw the place and tried to sneak in with me and that ancient dark anger filled my heart..
I pressed my feet on his soft chest and pushed him out of my world and guarded my world enjoying the power of denial..
I saw him going out of the room beaten and battered with my feet imprinted on his chest forever..

Into my pain of guilt, he came.. with the smell of moist soil and blood.

Cain .. the lightning in sandstorm, the man with the blood of his brother in his hands..
From the deepness of his throat, words resounded across the realms of my hideout.

"I wandered around the world with this ancient horror. Not the wrath of an unjust god, nor the tears of mother, but that kiss which dried up long back in my lips which I kept for the pale skin of my brothers cheeks.."

A white light surrounded me and I saw Abel smiling at me with tearful eyes. I extended my hand to touch him..

Sunday, February 13, 2011

My fairies

They came first time in a cool December morning, when I was snuggling myself back to the bed of laziness, enjoying the sacred ennui..
Grandma's little angel, who used to fly through the invisible crosses around my bed kissed my eyes and dissolved in the cold air that day..
Leaving me to the fairies..
They warmed me with their smooth skin .. They winked and told me their secrets.
They stroked me with their soft small fingers over the goosebumps gifted by the first rain of monsoon.
One day I realized that they are making my dreams come true.
But my boundless dreams started to shrink down to the borders of reality..
Today, I am sitting here wondering in this dry early morning, which is trying to weave its thread through the night sky.
A am I living my dreams? or do these dreams live through me?
Fairies are flying all around me in sacred silence.
My passion .. my laziness .. my purgation.. my sin pride fear love .. my hunger..
My fairies...

Saturday, September 25, 2010


The tunnel was cold, dark and wet... We ran to warm up our bodies ..
I felt cold water soaking the way in through my torn shoes..
On feeling my feet getting numb, I ran faster.
I heard her rhythmic foot steps keeping up behind me..
We, sound of our foot steps and our breaths filled the tunnel.
We ran out and dissolved in the bright light of mountains..
We saw Grossglockner standing there with the all knowing smile of an ancient mountain god..
We stood there holding our numb hands.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Songs of Gond

I left the gigantic melancholy of the city behind and walked through the rocks towards the sea.

Crabs ran around crazily under the rocks tricking the fishermen who were trying to catch them.

Around me, inside invisible shells created by couples for themselves, faceless men and women became reflections of the city behind them. Reflections of repressed sexuality, loneliness and never ending lethargy.

Then I saw a face, facing the city where the bungalows of the rich stood like the trophies earned by the city..

It was Gond and he was singing.. The songs city never heard in the noise of traffic, festival load speakers and IPL matches..

Songs of his Gond gods from hills, rivers and trees..
Songs of his grand fathers and grand mothers..
Songs of brothers who were forced to fight each other..
Songs of the son of poor farmer who was send to burn Ghond village ..
Songs of pictures painted in the walls of Gond houses with the blood of the sons of farmers and adivasis..

He sang to the city which is fattening with flesh, blood and tears of his tribe..

The city which filled the pores of the jungle flowers with cement dust..
The city which told him that his dance, music and gods are vulgar..
The city which found creams to cure his dark skin..
The city which gave him dreams which he could not understand..
The city which called him a traitor for defending his last bit of land..
The city of faceless people..

I walked fast towards the road looking for a taxi to reach the comfortable slavery of my laptop.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Dry lands and wet lands

I cried through the pangs of my purgation with tears filling my eyes and flowing through the dry lands of my existence, blooming thousands of sun flowers.
Tears withheld for long in the unseen corners of my masculinity, tears which never flowed for the love, loss and defeat.
Tears .. like magic goggles showed me pain, love and life which I always refused to see..
I saw souls with scars, beliefs and burdens around me.
On my shoulder I felt dry breaths of lives which are taken, lost and hidden.
I continued writing.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

I walked

River was frantically rivering with all its riverness..
A cool mountain wind passed me.. soothing the bruises from river rocks.
I walked..

Snakes copulated among dry leaves with never ending spiral frenzy..
Empty beer bottles and condom covers scattered among the remains of the abandoned forest watch tower.
I walked..

I sat among the yellow flowers and ancient rocks, as arrack traced the perimeters of my intestine.
Fireworks from a distant temple painted flowers in the dark sky..
Flowers transformed into snakes .. peacocks .. butterflies .. eyes...
I smiled and slept..