Sunday, May 30, 2010


the woman in blue and red
smiles at all of us.
she makes us to stop
like a frozen stream in winter.
she talks to her earrings.
she will walk on the empty streets
with a map of a lost town
whistling a song of her past
looking at the darkness
lit by city lights.
she may run into those
sisters who liked her earrings.


the roof rattles even for a breeze
cracks all over
winter presents shorter days
but I can go back
when the war is over
to where the sun’s warmth
keeps our lives together
where we grew coconut trees
vegetables in the backyard
and herbs for good health
our hibiscus flowers are bright and fresh
 like a baby’s rosy palms
I’ll go home
when it’s all over.
how can you forget
the bloody past that
destroyed our innocence?

The trees on my street
stand still
exhibiting immense patience
they glow in green in the summer
autumn teaches them
the lesson of losing.
losing everything but themselves.
in the winter they are warmed
by the laughter of the kids
piercing the silence of the trees.
do you hear their whisper in the nights?
they share my intangible solitude
and they don’t wait for seasons.


years lay like pine needles
between us.
distances cannot be passed.
the fire of your love
start burning my soul
that was half burnt by that absence.

The dancer

movements in the void
weave stories to remember
stories of you
            of she
            of I
she becomes every woman
she dances the fire
burning inside her
from the day she was born.
I wrote you when they were being killed.
the letter may not be received.
You do not know me.
but you desired any language.
you hide yourself in volumes – they said
they saw empty rooms
rusty benches
overgrown garden
and postman thrusting mails in the grey box
which always overflows.
rejection is hard and it exists
like our destinies.
they never found you
who lost the self
in that far away land
from where I wrote.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

No title


She lets a yawn
to wake her soul.
it had been damp
all night. monsoon.
she shakes her long body
to rid of layers of old skin
still clinging.
she doesn’t sleep, she can’t
when the thought of those five men
demanding to conquer her night after night after night.
blood trickles from her womb
how can she identify the father of her child?
too many seeds (were sown).
she shakes herself from old dreams.
her hair hasn’t felt the warmth of the blood.
she comes out of the forest,
her body trembles in the morning breeze
there is one thing that she can’t divest
her forsaken love for Karnan.


Mother decided a name
even before you were born.
astrological calculations predicted
that you’d be strong and rebellious.
mother had unusual spasms
before that night.
she couldn’t bear the weight
of her womb anymore.
he wanted to come out rather soon and
father was reading the story of Karnan
by the glistening hurricane lamp.
outside world was cold and wet,
the rains were heavy this time.
mosquitoes were buzzing nonstop
so they had the neem smoke swirling
mother was in bliss
this was going to be her unforgettable child
who wouldn't be hers and 
would teach her how to fight.