sisyphus at nizamuddin. the veiled sadness on a man’s face as he brings in one hand a bucket of dirty utensils, and in another the weight of the earth. sunlight drops on us like a curtain. the earth is spliced by a sunday. watch these men go about their lives the same way for years, [...]
Hotel Lobby: Sultanahmet Istanbul After the mosque and the church, some chestnuts, after the rain— every drop a passport to misery— we return to a room not housekept. As we wait, we’re offered Turkish tea and Apple tea. The family next to us is, we learn, from Germany. Well, they’re Iraqis from Germany. We’re Indians [...]
An Email on Sunday Some emails are more difficult to receive from a child long out of college the daughter who writes her cancer is back but the doctor says with chemo and surgery things should be fine and all the while the father wonders why she didn’t call at midnight and let the telephone [...]
Varanasi, December 2014 You unwelcomed me with fog on a blinding night hurrying into history like the feet of your ghaats As I crawl up the rickety slope of your refrigerated afternoon I am spiral and backward in time’s forsaken bedroom where chaste Hindi adulterates several slips of tongues and the languid orality of people [...]
I (or The End Of Life) You talk sad. I talk expensive. Potato tart appetisers are rare. Baby shrimp are rare. But you dog! It is true. I am hungry. Goodbye my waiter! It is closing time. * II (or It Is The Nature of The Weightless To Soar) Inside I am blue. You are [...]
Equal between amber and blue eyes seven warriors of thistle and heat of the sun as three hummingbirds in your eyelashes. ***