Googly Eyes

To that obstinate little bit of happy
inside,
one that refuses to be
snuffed out.
One that still
has the googly eyes on,
brows cocked and head
tilted, looking out


looking out



for that obstinate little bit of
happy
inside (of you.)

Long Enough

The rains have found this city again.

This morning, I woke up in a haze

of receding dreams and

sputtering rain.

Haze. Heh'.

Water on dust makes

everything all right. Or

so you'd die to believe.

The streets awash with

a new old wonder, 

a sparkling champagne sky, those

bougainvillea twigs out

of the launderette,

that whistling skysalt

scent.

Why should anybody

complain?

I don't.

I'm not ungrateful.

I don't plan to be.

But between the stray

drops on my knuckles

and the dead street

in my chest, I

remember

a couple of bright eyed

kids. Waiting. Under

street lamps, basketball hoops,

big trees, small trees, 

open skies and

ones

acrumbling,

fingers and breaths

in a tangle, waiting,

for their

first rain

together.

I start up the laptop and shuffle through my

applications for Mumbai Mirror and

HT. I imagine the rains choking

on their terribly
pretty lies.

Next year, when the rains come 

invading,

I want to have been out of this

godless place

for 

long enough.

The Waters of Perhaps

The sky smells of rains that may
or may not
be.
Like a gutsy,
dreeeeeamy blob of
ink, contemplating
a line, perhaps even
a whole
story.


I have always loved afternoons
like this.
:)

I Understand

One man teaches you to fall in love.
One man teaches you to
fall out of it.
All the same, if you are
a little mass of
godless carbon
that just happened to
hang around long enough
to argue
that they are the
same,


I understand.

Be Gone

The night calms me.
Something about it's effortless oblivion, I suppose, 
that leaves me safe and 
lulled. 
Between Barthes and Beauvoir and a whole lot
of breathlessness, I catch myself standing
alone amongst the flappy clotheslines on
our grey-chip roof. 
Staring out into the skymiles of
inky nothing, I forget
to feel the weight
of things as they are.
It is nice.






On a scarcely related note:

Be good, very good, and,
very
very
gone.

Yes, be gone.