Monday, December 31, 2012


The city walks, jumps and slides,
Brakes, skids and falls off,

And passes,
Over bridges, under subways,
Past red lights, cutting lines and lanes,
hitting cyclists,
Banging trucks;
howling over, Tugging,
frightening joggers,
Skipping hitchhikers,
blinding eyes,
and bashing and crashing
Into broken dustbins.

Screaming horns, screeching tyres,
Panting old men, audis, and
A little kid making balloons out of
Carry bags.

Slow margazhi mornings-
Ordered sounds,
Sung-hummed over
Temple speakers;
Shattered coconuts,
Crushed lemons,
Violins, voices and
Venerated odes-
Love poetry,
Hugs and kisses,
To a flutist.

Segments and narratives,
Grace, beats and unhinged 'quence,
Blazing eyes, drunk panache,
slapping thighs, broken strings-
The noted nuance, brazen,
No bourn, no borne.

Bhajans and Adhans,
Howling wind, sleepy dogs
With half open eyes,
Unlit roads,

Emanating elan,
Staccato poise;
Flashing, dip and dim,

Footsteps on a stage,
Dark cold sky,
Days to go to thai.

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