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Sunny/ Somber:
Cul-de-sac
A tree, Jasmine, waits at the turn of a road
with its fragrant blooms fidgety under a load,
a load of expectations:
that bees will come and so will a myriad butterflies
some curious children will join; gleeful din will rise...
some will climb over the branches, squirrels some will chase,
some will climb over the branches, squirrels some will chase,
some will pluck flowers and some will cherish the shade...
A JCB comes and shakes the reverie out of the tree:
the road is going to add more lanes;
a time for you to wake up and see;
wild bees are extinct outside gene banks,
no tame one anymore escapes apiary
the road is going to add more lanes;
a time for you to wake up and see;
wild bees are extinct outside gene banks,
no tame one anymore escapes apiary
butterflies are gone too,
rare ones to museums and common ones to gift shops
rare ones to museums and common ones to gift shops
pinned in the mahogany boxes beneath the clear-glass tops,
children are grown-ups now so wrap-up your show,
city is expanding, J'mine, time to go.
Mother & Me
Sunflowers.
A pair of twinkling eyes
following her mother through blissfully long hours.
They ransack every womb;
spotted, she dies.
If you don't find these three lines revolting then you don't know a shameful truth of India; scores of newborn girls die every day and there is a huge industry of illegal medical services that thrives on it.
Shame! (Mayflies of Rajasthan)
Mayflies!They ransack every womb;
spotted, she dies.
If you don't find these three lines revolting then you don't know a shameful truth of India; scores of newborn girls die every day and there is a huge industry of illegal medical services that thrives on it.
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