Sunday, November 25, 2007

Cherrapunji

Evening home of clouds
Above town, this village
Where the noonglow’s a special guest
Digging its heels in the mist;
Here, memories of splashing about
All day in rainbow mirrors, muddy puddles
Haunt lives.
My memory of the lone umbrella,
Ownerless, dancing in the windy rain
Through the football field where I stand,
Its emptiness ringing in my head
After all these years, a traveler
Whose heart rained when weary
Reached the stall of youth
On a timeless evening day,
The village above town, and heard the clouds
Murmur with schoolchildren their lessons,
Burst in laughter with lovers,
In the church, with the seeking, pray
Till the candles were lit.
When the rains stand still and fade
Into the horizon of thoughts,
Beyond evening hills, the clouds leave home.
Stain

Like the kohl of your eyes
I line myself up everyday,
When the rains come, I smudge.
Trickle down your cheeks, curving
Under the chin and lost by the time
I reach your neck; lost pearls sink
To the depths your forgettings offer, I drown.
Like the fire in your belly
I am doused everyday
By your endless craving for food.
The days you starve,
I stab your insides like knives
Of remembrance again
And again like the cities you live in,
I erupt in riots and survive
In flaming pyres, in crazed hearts.
When Words Don’t Speak

Silence no longer seeks those abandoned houses of the heart,
It looks on, Eagle-like, beyond the far craggy land, towards the ocean
From where the sun rises;
Its eyes survey a rich topography of words, of thoughts –
Streams cutting through a blue dawn valley
Lapped by the low wavy hills, and then lakes, and then the sea.
Poets have seen silence soaring above their heads,
Casting its shadow on the civilization of words;
Its restive nest in thoughts of remorse, in the pause of doubt,
In the gentle foliage of the conscience;
New words gather on its wings, new protesting thoughts;
Against selfish authority our silence speaks
Slow, honest, sensuous words the newly crowded heart can feel
Like some faded past thing.
Silence flies past our eyes; it surrenders freely to the sea.