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.