juliet and romeo

my juliet waits
restless and impatient
she looks at the stars
" the moon is lost...
is god dead??"
and there my romeo,
explaining how to format lap-tops
to any rosalind he would never know
the knot in his throat growing.
my juliet tells her mother,
"i have insomnia. i can't sleep."
romeo thinks,
"two hours more to eleven and then..."
11 o' clock.
a virgin coke by his side
the lap-top in front
my hero reclines on the floor
in a cluttered nook
strumming his love
trying to untie the knot
his voice is lost
his love is not.
11 o'clock.
juliet listens to a heart
a thousand miles away
she feels his pain
serenading the knot away
she could die again for him
and she hopes she die.
tomorrow.
she pauses at the mirror
and flashes a smile

sunset

the china broke

he cried

and i stared

a lazy morning still...

mute, virgin, benumbed

we stood silent in the twilight

for a long long time

long after the sun went down the himalayas.

green flowers

its strange. mother is waiting at the doors. usually i have to ring the bell and wait for some time before mother opens the door. but today is a different affair. there she is, standing with a smile on the corner of her lips. i forget to yell goodbye to my friends as i run towards the house...

just as i am about to shout out, she whispers... ssshh, your father is back. he's taking rest. don't disturb him now. papa's back!! finally i am going to see a man who has seen delhi, touched the taj mahal, walked through(!) india gate. but she won't let me wake him up...

it was a big disappointment. the taj. i kept looking at it, waiting for that sudden surge of emotions that i had conjured up for so long, that was supposed to make me shed warm tears. it didn't come. did haji begum love her husband less? why is the taj so white? did shahjahan not know that people would come wearing vulgar flashy pink sarees nd gaudy yellow flowered gowns and make a mockery of the serenity of the space??

no, it would be no good. you must be big enough to appreciate the beauty of things. i know you want to see the taj, but dear, you are too young! the year you finish school, i promise i will take you to see the taj.

yesterday an american girl in her innocence thought that the "mehendied" hair of a man was the outcome of cheap dyes. papa, my innocence is lost. it was not the marbled walls of taj mahal that i loved, but the taj was to me the dream- the dream of love. its sad but true papa. your daughter has grown old, too old to appreciate things, she can only criticise now and the dream of love has been long replaced by something more real, and consequently by something infinitely sadder...

i loved a boy once upon a time and one day i stopped loving him. just like the taj mahal. i cried. our love was lyrically beautiful and so it ended. i had grown too old...

my mother's smile diminished in size for three and a half years and then it completely disappeared. i searched for it when i visited the taj, i found much trash... broken hearts, hopeful hearts, whispering prayers, resolute faith, lost smiles, lingering memories,... but i couldn't find my mother's smile. i am sure it is there, because love was what made it go. my father fell in love with a beautiful young girl. her ears took in this, her heart rebelled and was silenced and in the turmoil the smile vanished forever... i still keep looking for it!!

if you go to the taj someday, you might trip on a stupid brick lying arrogantly near the entrance. after you curse it, do take a while and remember me... its the sole witness to my failed love. my once beloved had brought it from far away to mark the death of our love. laugh if you will, yet somehow i still believe that a poverty stricken shahjahan still waits for me. but papa, i have promised... i won't let anyone steal my smile!!