It's cold

On this cold night after we

Have warmed ourselves

We fall back on memories

Remember the silent valley

That spoke in rising mists

I was stung by a bee for

The first time in life 

Sitting by the window

At a vegetarian restaurant

Later we ran into a swarm

Locals asked us to duck

Till it swept over

Nature behaved itself 

For the rest of our time there

It did not show its other face,

If we live long enough

Beauty reveals its ugliness

We remind ourselves

As we surrender to sleep.

Nowhere

There we are when we are not there

The doors open and close like flowers

Which know when to and when not to 

Against the wall we can see the rain fall

There are times when we want it to come

And times when we don't, like children

Weather keeps us guessing, whether or not

A giant fire is lit atop once volcanic hills

We have made a fetish of flames and fury

When the god comes down from the hills

He comes up with mundane demands

No one can ask him profound questions

On the meaning of life or what death holds

We can decipher dreams as nature's call

Nothing more as we go about our journey

Seeking directions on the way to nowhere.

Till we can't

Don't take Gibran's word for it

Go back to find you cannot go back

The television visuals show the streets

Of my native town flooded and my feet

Feel the water flowing around them

There were two theatres we frequented

My father and I, to escape home weather

In the square opposite the famous temple

Rationalists thundered against gods, myths

I remember the priest asking me to move

Throwing the flowers and ash at my hand

Careful not to touch, to avoid any pollution,

Nothing has changed there or elsewhere

The god of music himself cannot cross

The lines of caste and get nearer the shrine

The past draws borders we cannot cross

Only the memories of places we can own

The land and times we still carry with us

Exist no more out there; when we go back

We find out for ourselves we can't go back 

But can remember as well as we can,

Till we can't remember even the way back.

Flames of sorrow

Festivals are shadowed

By thoughts of the dead

When lamps are lit to mark

The defeat of darkness

The flames rekindle sorrow

Over those who have left ---

Father woke up lifeless that day

Days before the Deepam night

The rain came to mourn him,

When the last rites were over

The grey skies so burst out

The city and suburbs were flooded;

On phone brother recalls how

Friends and relatives struggled

To reach home from the funeral

We share recent dreams where

He reappeared and I tell him of one

Where he was lighting these lamps

And tasking us with tending them ---

Dreams bring back to us loved ones

Death took away and refused to return.

Kafka on the tree

Kafka is Czech for crow

I learn from the Murakami novel,

It is tempting to give our dark friend

From the neighbouring jamun tree

And demanding attention at odd hours

The Metamorphosis author's name;

These birds were once used on ships

To help sailors find their way to land

Hence their cry also denoted shore;

In Hindu mythology ancestors turn

Into Kafkas on days of remembrance

New myths are sought to be made

As actors seek to metamorphose

Into some avatar who like the black 

Cowherd-god can lead holy cows 

To pastures guarded by myth-busters

Not far away

The stars look like neurons

Firing in the neural network

Itself reflecting the universe

As it is far that constellation

Seems desirable as some jewel

That cannot be worn everywhere

The birds defy gravity as easily as

A baby floats in water without effort

The aliens are said to be among us

But we can be sure those who have 

Drifted far must be prime suspects

The unknown outstrips the known

For nothing stays the same anywhere

The hill we worship buries us alive

The sea we live by sweeps us away

Death comes when it seems far away.

Something

With the street lights too shut down 

The night has got its darkness back

The trees around are draped in black

The silence inside the house without

The talking heads is like music

Something has returned for us to keep

When the lights come on and we can't sleep