- #poemaday ananth aranya Atyachar beauty Bombay City Could be verse epiphany forest Gothamisation hasi to fasi hmmm hypocrisy I Quote It is written I want to ride my bicycle kaha gaye woh din Lou middle class mithya Music nasha nature night nostalgia One Bad Day poetry Prosepoetry the apocalyptic real traffic Uncategorized vignettes why?
tagsanger aranya auteur beauty birdsong black Bombay bombay streets cars chauvanism circle city cityscream creation crows cycling death detergent development dhrupad Eco ecstasy evening eyes fear fight flight forest forests frustration Ghalib grass guilt insomnia kachra Kanti uncle Krishnaa liberated life lost lou Love madmast marine drive masculinity metaphors minisha lamba mirrors music nasha night nirma nostalgia observer phallic symbol PoMo Rain rant relationships safedi ki jhankaar silence sleep soar solitude space spirit the sea three traffic Ustad voyeur water white wild worm
Category Archives: hypocrisy
In the marketplace of time, buying cheap chappals woven by blind hands, tresspass Propriety’s red cloth taunts the wild bull euphemising the truth, Don’t just stand there, abuse Ride her back, and as she throws you like so many grains … Continue reading
I dreamt of blood of men with sticks and fire beating their breasts like gongs I dreamt of a riot in an anywhere town with anyhow cries tearing the crackling sky I dreamt of relief that it wasn’t me; that … Continue reading
good trip, bad trip good cop,bad cop everything under the sun slow move, fast move access, space all parading as one Big ball, square chawl no space, watchman ko bulao everything under the sun one, two, lock the door no … Continue reading
This tumult of newspapered violence ravages me an incessant fist a thronging orchestra of despair Tired, I turn away and drink the evening swathed in birdsong aah! a believer salvaged.
Every year around this time, I start marvelling about the rain and how beautiful it is. Then when I walk out on bombay streets, I remember an image. a poem. an old one nevertheless. many of you might have read … Continue reading
The traffic felt like little bullets of testosterone today. As I weaved through the haze of exhaust, hornscream, dirty looks and angry rants, on my cycle, I saw a pair of cars plonked bang in the middle of the road. … Continue reading