Thursday, 25 December 2008

The Way of the Rain

The rain finds a way
Through shattered, broken windowpanes,
And cracks in the ceiling.
Through keyholes in the walls, and
Peeling white plaster.
Through the doors that only open for some.

It makes its way
Through borders and barbed wires
That can’t be bought or cut.
Through places with names we can’t pronounce,
And gaps in praying hands
Maybe open or closed,
Lifted to the sky.
Sliding down your neck and chin,
Into your bosom.
Through the song of the bird that,
Has learned to sing.

And it will come,
From the news in the television and
Songs on your radio.
From mouths and eyes that refuse to shut,
From the crevices on your skin
Bones that are dried but not hollow.
And through the wind that blows
Across these shores,
The rain will find a way,
Drown the sentries of your heart.


And when the evening arrived,
The mountains rolled down.
That was how the avalanche was started
With just a kick,
To a pebble.


Don’t preach
What you can’t do.
Everything that goes in circles
Will come back to you.

The Middle

There is no void
Or gap.
There are no cracks.
For you come,
In the middle of everything.

Sang Tarash

I feel proud
Of what I’ve created
How it has been
Loved, lost and hated.

The Stain

In every white,
I can see your black.
And like a nostalgic stain, or,
An unforgettable
Tear in your dupatta
You’ve always been there.
At a distance,
Looking at me
You can’t be erased.


When excuses turn into stones
We get
Thoughts of freedom
In our head.


Are like rivers.
They flow into the ocean
And get lost.


Once I saw a girl
In the rings of smoke
And I realized that time forgets
The secrets her lips hold.

Wednesday, 10 December 2008


Thus came Zarathustra

and emerged victorious from the bathroom.

How pathetic.


Some days back in Mumbai, producer Ashoke Pandit and director Shashi Ranjan took out a rally demanding Pakistani artistes not to be given any work in the entertainment industry, threatening to disrupt shootings wherever Pakistanis are employed.

Blatant jingoism, celebrity candle marches with feigned speeches at the end, sudden hatred for politicians and new found love for the Indian army...

A terrorist attack is a terrible thing to waste.

Wednesday, 3 December 2008

Simple Man

I am a simple man

Who finds it hard to tell his grandmother

He loves her.

But you should do it

Before it gets too late.


There lies a magical land beyond these barbed wires

It's true.

A place full of toys and miracles

And other kids that call out your name.

We'll know for sure when

We cross over to the other side.


Sometimes I feel dumb

Gullible and naive

duped by the world.

Remember the time I played Othello in that play?


I wish we could grow old together.

Because I already bought that house in the hills

And now I don't know what to do with it.


Only I know for sure of the times I've been a real asshole.

Like when you bought me a birthday cake,

and I ran.


Sometimes it sucks but,

It's good when people don't point out my good habits.

That way, I won't lose them.

If I am an alien, I wish for my mother ship to come and pick me up just about


Monday, 1 December 2008

A Night In These Shoes

Sometimes I feel like a glass bowl falling off a table, breaking into a million pieces. And you would come and put me back together, make me new.

I think I just heard my grandmother coughing really loudly. Its 2:30 am at night. There is no place lonelier than this bed.

Today I laughed so much I had tears in my eyes.

Hello, I think you’re beautiful. Bet you’ve heard that before.

Later on, I tried to call her on her birthday but she didn’t pick up the phone. Now my birthday is round the bend and I strangely wish for her to do the same, and not say a word.

Last night I woke up with a jolt from a bad dream and saw a silhouette of a large man standing at my bedroom door.
I never realized how tall my brother is.

Today I took a picture of myself and could not decide why I’m not photogenic. Maybe it’s because whenever I smile in front of a camera, it’s never real.

Today I sat in a room full of microphones and didn’t speak. But I am happy. This is who I want to be. I wish I could tell you. I wish you could see me now.