- #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: I want to ride my bicycle
the ocean froths In the empty ghada a Shrill whisper rises Like piss in the stream The fawda picks away at the clod Darknesses converge Upon the decaying carcasses The dead stink Louder than blasphemies In the sacred chamber And time, … Continue reading
we are mirrors. water. grass. The tip that grazes an ecstatic breeze is the root. and the fortress lies in its foundations. every speck of the vision is an explosion of our own shadows. we nod cinematically; in hypnotic roam … Continue reading
and dawn looks through the French windows, ruffles my hair and slips in between the sheets knocks on the door of my breath and listens to me with an ear to my chest listens to the tangerine ring of sleep … Continue reading
Conscience passes through the secret lives of things a snake measuring time in the dark vein; uncertainty’s child seconds pass like bro ken syllables in the alchemy of the forgotten stench of touch memories finding themselves in the wire before … Continue reading
City’s courier carrying good news into tomorrow – resting commuters