Malice

She stood outside the window
Listening intently
To the couple quarrel
Trying to gather
The details of the dispute
To trade with her friends
Passing the woman later
On the stairs
She looked for signs
Of violence on her
A black eye
A swollen lip
A bump in the head
Was disappointed
If she couldn't find any;
The misfortunes of others
Made her visibly happy
She made sure everyone
Was kept informed
"They sold their house
So their son could study abroad
Now, he has settled there
Doesn't send any money
Doesn't even speak to them"
I wonder if she has ever cried
For anyone but herself
Watched others shed tears
Without a smile.

Absurd

Your diary
Of the absurd
Full of details
Of a life
Where nothing happened
Was a mirror
Of all of us
For someone like me
Always living in dread
Of the day
When there was nothing to eat
Not having to go hungry
Was a freedom hankered for,
Everything else was an absurd luxury
All desires were decoys
That vanished in your hands
Leaving you as empty as before
I watched you chase sirens
Come back empty-handed
Then go after others
With the smile of an eternal hunter
Who knows the futility of the chase
But cannot resist the call of the trail.

Mute night

The sleepless night
When you find that breathing
Is not something
You can take for granted
Is also when you discover
That television channels play
The same songs
The comedy scenes
And the game shows
Over and over again
The song and dance
Without the sound
Is so comical
That it parodies itself
Suddenly the image
Of the next-door child
Raising the volume
Of the idiot box
When her parents quarrel
Pops up like an unwanted ad
You switch off the stale fare
Hug the pillow
And brace for a long haul.

Letters to the dead

The dead are those
You do not receive
Letters from
In reply to yours
Even once in a while
Leading to suspicion
They are no more
Until you know for sure
You continue to talk about them
As if they are still alive
You laugh about the time
This one slept in the exam hall
After staying up to cram
The previous night
How the other vacated his house
In the dead of night
To dodge his creditors
More and more of them
Exist only in your mind
Brought alive
By a common friend's reminiscence
An old song
Mention of a favourite author
In the morning paper
News about the native place;
Calls to their last known number
Elicit the recorded voice
"Please check the number you have dialled
Or this number does not exist"
Finally it is confirmed
They are really no more
And that your letters
Were actually to the dead.

Monday morning

All days are
Not the same
For everyone
Unlike Tom and Swami*
The tamed student
Looks forward to
Monday morning
There is no need to play truant
When only praise is due
There is the promise
Of food in school
For those who have
To go hungry at home
The husband
With the suspicious wife
Is keen to be the first
To arrive in office
The lover who wakes
With only one face in mind
Lets bus after bus go,
For over two hours
Before the only one
That matters arrives
The favourite day
Keeps changing too
From the day
When the music show is aired
To the day of the family outing
To the day of the weekly off
When the noise never reaches
The pitch of the inebriated bar.
*Tom Sawyer and Swami (R.K. Narayan's Swami and Friends)

Back

After a week
Of enforced rest
It was like stepping
Back into life
To just take a walk
Through the streets
Lined with rain
Neem, peepal and asokas
The green had never looked
More rejuvenating
The blue sky lovelier
Or just as lovely as you
Standing against the sea
Your blue saree fluttering
In the evening breeze
And imploring me to capture
The frame, as the waves
Came bounding like hounds let loose!

Sharing meals

While we talk
My daughter and I
Living on either side of the globe
Often sit for meals
On either side of the screen
She, brings her breakfast
I, my dinner
It is almost like
Being together
In the same room
Only we can't share
The food that looks
So inviting from here
I would like to taste
What she cooks
See if she's got my flair
The little one's mouth is watering
As she taps the screen
Demanding a morsel for herself
Till she grows up
And understands,
The computer screen
Will be her grandmother
Who appears every morning
After her father has gone to work
And talks, plays and laughs
And sometimes inexplicably cries.