Wednesday, October 30, 2013

diwali bonus

two ponytails, tied together with black rubberbands, 
wrapped in little black ribbons,
looped together and knotted tightly
so they do not unravel before the last bell rings. 

small feet in shining black shoes, 
neat pinafores ironed with heavy presses,
and tight collars held together
with the school-captain tie and badge. 

small hands given willingly to protective palms
with miniature school bags hooked on sunburnt shoulders,
to cross the road on the black-and-white stripes
and get across to the other side
where the world lies. 

cold steel railings at the airport
that separate those who left from the ones who stayed,
smiling eyes welcoming extra baggage, grown-up shoulder-length hair, 
never tied together, showing off modern brown-coloured hues,
and fringes that fall with style to the left or the right.

old palms that grab baggage trolleys instead of fair nailpainted hands. 

fathers welcome their daughters back in to their homes,
with sad i-told-you-so smiles,
and hurried whispers to responsible brothers
about what is going to happen now.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

kiss me

on my hand,
kiss my arm and my shoulder,
kiss the curve of my neck,
the hollow of my back,
and the wave of my hip.

kiss me quickly,
before we remind ourselves
that we are only friends. 

Friday, October 18, 2013

wrong timing

for now and forever,
innocence shall always be laughed at. 

when i'm standing at my kitchen counter,
wondering if the onions are sliced too big,
and the knife in my hand
mocks the blood running through my veins,
i shall remember the heat of your embrace
which betrayed the innocence of your lies.

you and i, 
we are tied together
like the words of the alphabet.
incredibly familiar
yet impossible to recite backwards. 

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

i write the same poem over and over again

unfortunately, 
i will always love you. 

Monday, October 14, 2013

noir

there was once a woman
so lonely,
she had forgotten the sound
of her doorbell.

when
finally
one day
someone rang,

she didn't answer.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

No hugs and no goodbyes

It is a strange thing, love. 

When you expect nothing, 
nothing will satisfy.

I would rather 
put you on a pedestal
and be disappointed
that you never look down. 

Thursday, October 10, 2013

last attempt

take my hand. 

let 
us
be
sad
together. 

Monday, October 7, 2013

engagement

the wives
of all the men i know
are jealous.

of my empty appartment, my apathetic cat,
the double bedsheets folded in two,
a half-empty shoe cupboard,
my lonely toothbrush,
the quarter cup measure of rice,
the eerily quiet sunday mornings
and the two potatoes a week instead of a dozen.

how do i explain to them,
what jealousy is?

Saturday, October 5, 2013

don't come home

only love
can make you feel
homesick
for a place
that was never home.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

non-returnable

the broken promises of love
have taught me to hug a pillow
and hold my own hand
when i sleep at night.

but never mind,
it is a new kind of loneliness
waiting to be explored.