Category Archives: middle class mithya

‘I’ll tell you all the news

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

Posted in #poemaday, Atyachar, community, Could be verse, Gothamisation, hmmm, I want to ride my bicycle, It is written, middle class mithya, night, One Bad Day, picture abhi baaki hain mere dost, poetry, why? | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

ethnography

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

Posted in #poemaday, angryfix, community, Could be verse, epiphany, I Quote, I want to ride my bicycle, It is written, middle class mithya, poetry, the apocalyptic real, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

morning

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

Posted in ananth, Bombay, Could be verse, epiphany, hmmm, I want to ride my bicycle, kaha gaye woh din, Lou, middle class mithya | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Rapporteur

I’ve watched black rain sow its seeds in fields of tarpaulin. pollinate the slum roofs with the manna of kali’s blood. and the angry gods in them come laughing out of blue urchin tongues. poverty’s a bitch, yo. I’ve watched … Continue reading

Posted in ananth, Atyachar, beauty, Bombay, City, Could be verse, epiphany, Gothamisation, middle class mithya, night, One Bad Day, traffic, vignettes, why? | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Reclaim

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

Posted in Atyachar, City, Could be verse, epiphany, Gothamisation, hypocrisy, It is written, middle class mithya, poetry, the apocalyptic real | Tagged , , , , | 5 Comments

A rioting mind

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

Posted in Atyachar, City, Could be verse, Gothamisation, hmmm, hypocrisy, middle class mithya, One Bad Day, the apocalyptic real, why? | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A believer

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.

Posted in Atyachar, Bombay, City, Could be verse, epiphany, Gothamisation, hmmm, hypocrisy, I want to ride my bicycle, It is written, kaha gaye woh din, middle class mithya, nasha, nature, One Bad Day, the apocalyptic real, why? | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments