30 years back & Now

 

30 years back, I wrote to her:

"Her dark hair straying across that beauteous face,

Black eyes filled dim, alight yet through the full race,

Tear stained cheeks glistening like moonlit waters anew,

Long wet lashes as reaching branches dripping dew,

Blood stained lips trembling, lucky breath to kiss her tender,

Yet not touching, harming her no more but silent yearn render."

Now, I write to her:

"Woman, do not smirk at my words 30 years old.

Yes, the wet lashes were mine and was I nervous!

Remember our first meeting? You congratulated me

For a race or a speech. And I replied, "Same to you."

I cursed every moment I did not have you, believe me.

Remember that drunken night I left you to be with my buddies?

At 6:00, I went to the coffee-stall for a strong filter-kaapi,

At 6:10, I knocked at your door, woke you up, kissed you.

All you said was, "Nice coffee." Did I go back to my buddies?

We were never into PDA, were we? Even in dotage.

We liked our secrets to be our secrets. 

Remember when you acted like a stranger, sexy in saree

Sashaying to the kerbside, attracting not just me,

I whistled and leered, the guys around ready to lynch me

When I said, "What a belly!" And you replied, "Same to you."

You fought all the tough battles. 

All I had to do was not to trip you.

I was no knight ready to die for you.

But, without you, I am ready to die."

Relatives of Our Times

 

I have relatives who wear the Brahmin thread,

I have relatives who were called "kuravan" (low-caste),

Served outside and all that crap.

I have relatives who pray at the famous mosques and churches

of Tvm. I avoid those and Padmanabhaswamy Temple.

I won't tell you where I go. I don't want you there.

I have relatives who did some good for others.

If they were told to correct their views 

Because society did not like it, they did not listen.

I have this cute relative who does social work.

He is with a small political party of Central Tranvancore.

The small ones are the best to get funds, he says.

I have relatives who are communists,

I have relatives who are not that but are the same,

Ready to kiss any ass for the sake of business and kids. 

I have relatives who converted for better prayers.

They still seem the same to me

When they serve good food.

I have relatives who converted others for love.

There was a sad case of a girl cheated I could do little.

She was not in love with me.

I met you

 

I met you 

after I met my first love.

That was a disaster.

Not you.

She talked about her first love.

Not me!

I met you 

after I met my first sweetheart.

That could have gone better.

We are too good friends,

I said to her.

What an idiot!

I met you

when I knew so much

And still an idiot.

Did I tell you

about the lovely one I met

after I met you?

howling at the moon

 

Why am I howling 

at the moon early morning?

The night never ends.

#haiku ?

Immature Love

 

When I write about you, to you,

Why am I the man I was to you?

Never the man I have to be,

The proper and mature me.

Sharing sexist jokes and wet dreams,

Coffee-tinged kisses, muffled screams.

Did I grope in the dark, also in sight?

Was it too rough when you held tight?

An act, a god-damned no-encore play,

Even when I pulled the plug our last day.

In the dark, it’s still our old ways, laugh and talk and kiss,

With few truths and lots of lies, the immature love I miss.

Before the darkness

 

Told you I love you,

When the sun was not yet gone,

Before the darkness.

#haiku ?