Of broken glasses and beer.

Jagged edges.

When glasses descend
kiss the ground
with  stunning brutality,
their edges acquire a unique beauty.

Broken shards surround their romance
collateral damage
in a quest to stand out.

Once smooth
glasses are now instruments for damage.

Poke them into your palm
and you might draw blood
glistening beads of life force
the very colour of the wine
that once rested in those glasses.

But now,
jagged edges
are all that remain.

The beer and the sun

Courtesy: Ankita Shreeram
One glass of beer and a walk in the sun
All we wanted was to have a bit of fun
Cobble-stoned paths and shuttered shops
One canvas beneath and one besides us
One to tread on, the other to run fingers by
We had shut out the sun but it continued to burn
In a dancing flame in the pit of our stomachs
And when we felt the flame diminishing,
We abandoned cool cobble-stoned causeways
Hopped on to a black and yellow magic carpet
Ands sailed apace to have another sip of sunshine
Two glasses of beer and another walk in the sun
This time my feet wanted to dance, not to run
Shadows of overhead leaves danced on our arms
While the monsoon sun kissed our beer-warmed fingers
Golden warmth smiled through my lips
And voices of joy sang through my eyes
When the sun went down, so did the fire in our bellies
This time we let it die, happy to cradle the ashes
There would be another walk in the sun
Another look at children's toys and posters that promised to brighten your days
Another stop at raucous bars and another dance on rain-kissed streets
On a day not too distant from this one.

Harbour view

Courtesy: Ankita Shreeram
 Bright golden stars
Float upon the distant sea
Like jewels strewn with a careless hand.

A reluctant moon spies on their asymmetry
Perhaps plotting a tidal wave
That would reassemble the jewels
Into a perfect half-circle
Cast in the moon's image - 
Ode to it's narcissistic beauty.

As the sea joins hands with the blackening sky,
The golden stars acquire a salmon halo
Like a scarf made of spider web strands
And then steeped into salmon-hued glue
To keep the golden warmth safe
From the hungry water,
The moon's covetous eyes
And distant observers ashore.


My feet
Sing songs of sweet agony
My muscles
Tell tales of disharmony
But my mind
My mind is in deep slumber
A nudge
No answer
Don't desert me, thought-buddy
Silence and I, we're awkward strangers
But now we're left alone
Like a man and a woman on a first date
Hesitant but fearfully hopeful
I take a tentative sip
From a glass full of stillness
Silence fidgets, then relaxes
The room darkens
We smile, hands lying on the table,
I keep looking around for familiar intruders
Memories, regrets, analysis
But this is thought paralysis
Silence begins to melt
Though the room is cool
Melds into the velvety darkness
Leaving me alone
A heavy serenity
Wrapped around me like thick smoke
Inescapable, strangely comforting
Now I don't want my thought-buddies back
But I know they will come
Already, the door is opening
Inch by inch
Silence, she won't stay too long
A hard woman to woo
Maybe next time
I should let her take a sip instead.

Blur for clarity.

Let's crush the paper
bring the corners together
the world folding up
maps shrinking
distances blurring
let the sun shine on all of us equally
At the same time
let it illuminate all our eyes
at once
let seas heave into mountains
and mountains collapse into cornfields
let the world fold up
maps going up in flames
forests melting down on us
continents merging
boundaries blurring
let it all end
come together
fire and ice
deserts and icebergs
a storm unimagined
a tornado unforeseen
let it take our smiles and our tears
Our dreams and our fears
And hurl back at us
Something more honest, purer
More magical, truer.

Thank you, Robert Frost, who wrote, 'Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction, ice is also great, and would suffice.'