How many more stars we make?
How many more we need to break the silence
until each one of us become stars?

To lie closer, they folded their plicate wings,
ate blood and shit and the sweat of each other,
retched their names in history’s spittoon,
lay blear-eyed, dreamed-out, dreamless at last.

  I flinched and hid myself to evade her but she spotted me, her prey. Clad in a national dress, and waving the flags of patriotism in the air she came and raped me, scratching my face with razor sharp nails. Red, blood red were her eyes burning with rage as she thundered her national song again and again. Xenophobia[Read More…]

  Bloated stomachs and rust colored hair strolls everywhere in the countryside and city slums, obliged to perish much before their time empty, naked hungry and cold, their figures are like the edge of the world an embarkation point of hope. The tears, spilling out from their heart, a concoction of a broken mirror and a cigarette burning at both[Read More…]

To hunt crocodiles, the pond was dried.
No crocodiles were found because they can live on land too.
But all the small fish died.

Every morning,
she stands
at the murky corner of her room,
and raises her finger to the world.

Several Kashmiri shawls, a wreath of roses,
an expired passport, feathers of the bald eagle,
a Chinese mandolin, an empty wine bottle
and some antique Newari vases,
lay across her feet.

  I came into this world not like the river but like a drop of water and will soon evaporate. Though, I am only a drop of water in the majestic ocean of nature, I yearn to create a vigorous ripple of freedom, in the eternity of the water. For I am a man of eternal freedom, and suppression I[Read More…]

Father, I would have loved you more Had you felt happy When I was born As you felt when at the time of my brother … Dear father, I would have cared you more Had you shared your thoughts On life and property As you did with my brother .. But oh! Father, You commanded me like a priest You[Read More…]

Kawade was expecting his first cup of chai as he flipped through Prajavani In the small balcony adjacent to the living room though his roots took him back to Maratha lineage, His Marathi was laced with Kannada The rituals he followed were a pleasant mix of cultures his ancestors had Followed in a land that they tried to suit Kawade[Read More…]

Biswa goes to watch the movie ‘Kuchka Vikas – Unka Haath’ with his class mates

and just as the national anthem is about to start he gets an epileptic fit

and they slap him with cow leather shoes and

sprinkle cow urine on his face and

as he comes back to his senses

he utters feebly

‘Gau mata ki jai’

and the crowd scatters.

  The morning newspaper was splattered with The Chief Ministers face in every alternate page One was even an illustration that made him look a rock cut monument Wherein he was extolling on the tourist friendliness of his government A government that turns a ripe four years, the headlines boasted Equivalent to 90, if governments were to be compared to[Read More…]

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens

 I am not in you you are not in me. We are as diverse as the stars in the sky; we are not us we are total strangers. You live in the colour of the rainbow and wear the linings of the cloud whereas I live in the silhouette of the tyranny and wear the costume of disparity. You sleep[Read More…]

I am cold
but not numb.

I am silent
but not dumb.

I am not gazing
but not blind.

Plots for Spring to blossom
have been pre-allotted.
Don’t violate the boundaries
and carpet the roads with blossoms
and call it freedom of expression.

Lies propagated as truths
Half – truths and ‘ post truths’
Cannot, for long, hide reality
From vast humanity

During our recent “celebration” of Memorial Day, I heard the rumblings of muscular motorcycles outside my window, on the streets below my apartment in Washington, D.C. There seemed to be many such displays in public places or on TV. A former judge in my apartment building told me about “festivities” taking place at the Kennedy Center, to mark the 100th[Read More…]

  My life Is a ‘ fatal accident’… An unintended incident Clock starts ticking As my heart starts beating Like countdown before a satellite Exploding into the sky straight I become an identity A family’s entity Assume a name, a caste, a sanctity A religion, a member of a community I start becoming greedy Sucking milk from a dead mother’s[Read More…]

a gruesome truth we dare not speak
of violence with its bloody taunt
such terror stories seldom haunt
in lands where casteist pyres reek

it’s really simple. what you need first is
a man, preferably alone, poor or looking
poor, carrying no weapons and exhausted
from work, starving, and apparently
belonging to a lower caste or a muslim.

I wish I remain
In the cozy lap of mother Earth
Safe without pain
Of germination and growth …

As the Devil tiptoes into the room, The little girl’s hands seize the cane As he walks towards doom, His gaze fixed at her bane Brutus will make his deft move, But Caesar’s honour will not demise No longer trapped under his cove, The Damini in her is swift to rise Daddy’s little girl is now mature Ready to strike[Read More…]

Government of the blowjobs, by the blowjobs, and for the blowjobs
Government of the warmongers, by the warmongers, and for the warmongers
Is not war the ultimate blowjob?

Oh! Mother of civilization !
We are out to destroy
The meticulous creation
You nourished for us to enjoy

Three eruptions of unintentional poetry plucked from prose works, on topics ranging from homelessness in India to neocolonialism to death.

But if you risk life
Continue strife
Spread collective power
High over the infinite ‘ Sky’ tower
Will the big brother follow you?

Welcome to the nation!
‘ Doctor President’ Erdogan!
Let dictatorship and despotism
Integrate fanaticism with fascism!

Sun zooms into sky
Like aspirations of workers of ‘ Maruti Suzuki ‘
Toiling daily with casting and moulding
And turning and fitting
Gears, accelerators and brakes
Or cushioned seats and side glasses
In the sweltering heat
And iron rust

Early January 1977 Just out of Harvard Law Looking for a job Landing at Yale Law 26 years old 2 hour faculty presentation In faculty lounge To my right Dean Harry Wellington Arrayed left and right Across the room Yale Law Faculty all Most distinguished crowd   Sitting in the back Directly opposite Clear line of sight Glaring right at[Read More…]

The battle lines were drawn up.
The snow girls with books in backpacks.
The olive green troopers with guns.
An eagle perched on a white cloud
relayed the proceedings to Times Now.

When I hear the degradation of nature I think of the tender touch of Helen Keller! When I hear of the inhuman bombings of warmongers I remember the odyssey of Homer …! When I read of children with hunger I console myself in the music of Stevie Wonder When there are so many suffering around me Still living with hope[Read More…]

Then he thought he should have a drink
And all the bars were closed.
They told him ` get married and you will be fine’
Then he just asked them this:
`Will it cover my nudity?’

And when the dead bodies do not wake up
I keep telling myself
That it is safer to get drunk
On the silence of the graves.

To see the planet whole;
To know our place upon it;
To nurture and restore it;
To abide in moderation,
With compassionate humility;
That the arts might consecrate us—
I voted.

Share the bounty of the Earth!
Make a joyful sound!
A teaspoon’s worth
can give new birth;
let the hills resound–
there’s plenty to go around,
sharing in rebirth.

This is the wall of stone faces
This is the plain of lost skulls
How much blood must fallow
Before we’ve had enough?

When Jesus and the Buddha met
in a meadow of larkspurs, on a balmy day,
the bees of the valley went mad with love,
the sky and the sun were a glaze.
“Let us sit on the grass,” said Buddha.
And they rested their traveling bones.
One in cambric, the other in saffron,
and the air was the color of amber.

The tender coconut that you once gave me
Was certainly more tasty,
Than a nation you have offered
To keep me alive and to shape a meaning
For your existence than mine!

The pain of birth. A breathing child arrives With the loudest unhappy tears Cursing the entry into this planet Yearning to be where once belonged. The pain of death. Clinging to the last breath Refusing to leave the touch of fresh air Hated at the time of arrival. A last struggle to maintain The life which floated on air. You[Read More…]

This time around, Siddhartha let Yashodhara go to attain nirvana instead of you. In your colourful palace she sits forlorn. The colours fail to brighten her day. They disgust her. Yashodhara will leave you with a delicate flower in your bosom. Not to worry, you’ve attained enlightenment, right? You’ll figure this one out too. Look at the forlorn footprints behind[Read More…]

One day
I will open the windows of my dreams
to watch men and women
young and old
hugging and kissing
singing and dancing
without the poison of hatred
and without the guilt
of their silence.