Category Archives: One Bad Day

A kind of home

What is a home? Where you can lay your thoughts to rest. One by one. Like folded clothes. Where you can smoothen out the edges of the day’s dog eared pages. And pretend like you are whole again. Where compassion … Continue reading

Posted in angryfix, Could be verse, One Bad Day, Prosepoetry, why? | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

‘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

aranya #9: and catastrophe

The trees understood it first. but they were ancient. their messages passed slowly. antibodies had started to kick in. it was night at day. a storm in a bottle. the second coming. the apocalypse. the end of the universe as … Continue reading

Posted in aranya, forest, Gothamisation, One Bad Day, poetry, Prosepoetry, the apocalyptic real, why? | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Beginnings

They passed their misery around And fueled it Each affirmation was a drop Of life in the seed’s turning Into stem There was no drama As it floundered through Into the the day The most intimate impulse As tune is to … Continue reading

Posted in #poemaday, angryfix, epiphany, five words, Music, One Bad Day, poetry, the apocalyptic real, Uncategorized, vignettes, why? | Leave a comment

portrait

There’s something about him – the way he conducted himself. No. Conducted is the wrong word. His demeanour is a stage without a curtain. really. There is no membrane. Nothing that complicates his serious play with the system. (haha. system … Continue reading

Posted in #poemaday, ananth, angryfix, Atyachar, community, Could be verse, It is written, One Bad Day, the apocalyptic real, Uncategorized | 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

Midnight Local

City’s courier carrying good news into tomorrow – resting commuters        

Posted in Bombay, City, Could be verse, Gothamisation, hmmm, I want to ride my bicycle, night, One Bad Day, poetry, the apocalyptic real | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment