Let's walk, shall we!
('The food was heavy
Let's digest it on our way')
Words I have no recollection of
Walked with us.
A cartoon jingle that glimmers
Like a mute bracelet on my pale wrist.
I whine.
(My legs hurt/
I want to sleep/
I am tired)
'When I was your age I used to walk for miles
Everyday to get ration and stand
In a queue for hours...'
(Are we there yet? Are we there yet?
ARE WE THERE YET?
And we were.
(were we?)
Stories, a bridge while I lean over the parapet,
See syllables as the heads of people below
Swimming/sleeping across in a sea,
Hear whispers as the spots of cars below,
Zipping back and fro, from and to
The very road under me.
(Nudge, Nudge, and then NUDGE-
'Aai, tell me a story
I can't sleep')
That blanket of bridge under which
I slept safe and sound sometimes.
A cassette player safe inside a shelf
Sleeps troubled untroubled by light,
Unkiss the flimsy album cover
From the photo in a pinch.
Mohammad Rafi songs to which
She hums.
Hmm. Hmmm. Hum...
(Mein zindagi ka saath nibha...
Kitchen sink drips,
Pools and collects underneath
The sofa where I sit listening.
I want to immerse the tape in
A neon orange and
Play it on meadows.
'Rush out now,
It still works!'
(I will squeal till you rush out)
Footsteps now tread,
Have found their way
To replace them,
Swing the bat.
We can't dodge balls
That have corners.
Moon-rolling crescents towards us.
Midstance stands in place.
Heel strike.
strike one.strike two.strike three.str...
Out.
I count the shops that beg mercy to light
As we pass by
And pity Pharmacy the most.
Four pair of scissors cutting
The gravel in pieces
Backwards across
In a line
(Curved arrows on road curve as I turn my head till they straighten like a spine)
Now I see pairs
Of freed shadows that overlap
Like palm creases of an unbranched palm tree
In sharp outlines under yellow lampposts.
Centres of gravity act on
Each body like stars
That make a galaxy,
Slip from hip to soles as we walk,
Sandals and shoes shine
Blue and red and gold and more
Ruining milk on our way.
They prick the gravel
Like needles
Pinned on an Atlas
Of a tourist.
I whine now in sighs and swallows.
Town holds nightly orchestras
Gutters gather with bold chappals
To make buildings bow and
Roads clutter in claps of applause.
I know when to take a right
And how to make a road of rubble left.
Let me moonwalk in moonlight.
And reach moon and back and moon
By twilight.
Red | white | red | white | sing
On our whim of a hand-whistle,
Metal and skin meet,
Open:
Are we there yet ?
YOU ARE READING
Handwritten
Poetry"Sometimes I wonder If this is how it's supposed to be Can I make a choice ? Or is it all meant to be?"...
