Calcutta/Bangalore The conductor looks away as I come closer to his moving ground, ribbed with wood very few are remaining in this bus now for instance, the driver, and him and I he presses the beedi en route
…it is not a matter of knowing and that it is there for no-one. A secret doesn’t belong…
There is a deception in amorous time…Yet the initial scene during which I was ravished…it is after the fact. (A Lover’s Discourse, Barthes). The car lunges laboriously; there is a clock in my chest, whose hours are very
Drifting occurs whenever I do not respect the whole… (The Pleasure of the Text, Barthes) Often, I feel like writing with the cigarette’s ash, using the grey chalk of its carbonate, and calcium of my bones, that
1. yes. tongue is another hand i have to caress, write and grope through our hominan loves utterances of streets, tea cups of unkind leaves, winding words only to say the signs as one says them unbound those signs that
Seven in the morning in the Chintadripet quarter, and on the next street are women with their baskets on the pavement before them, threading jasmines on string to be measured out to the lengths of their forearms. Here, wire cages
When the flooding in the basement got worse she slipped into a silly dress and danced to The Best of Nirvana. The way she fell on the divan, her arms open — The best thing for stress — you could
Feasts and hallowed days spin on orbits seldom grazing mine, till your voice swings past meridians and meteorites (Insat 2-B and Mobistar abetting) this Saturday noon to hum Happy Holi into the unwary whorls of a left eardrum. I could
On nights like these when silvery drops of rain dance with glee on my roof, bathe the flowers the grass and below, I am tucked warmly in bed with a book for company, while Barbara Streisand sings my feelings exactly,
When sleepy eyes of the night hand over charge of our world to bright-eyed sunrays, what words of greetings do they exchange? When the sun turns its face to other continents and sleepy eyes of the night cast their spell