the window

aunty comes to dump garbage in the bin

no use, it'll overflow soon.

an assortment

of robins, bulbuls, peacocks

blue flycatchers,

basking in the unbearable summer heat,

their best songs

a lovely concert at 5 am.

two girls burn a bunch of papers...

post-exam ritual, this.

the grass resists the numerous attempts to thwart its growth.

a purple sunbird's nest on the tree outside my window

metallic purple,

shining in the oppressive sunshine.

and i draw my curtains,

lime green and transluscent

to comfort me with their light in the room.

Word Weaves

You tell me everything

And then you tell me, no that's not what I meant.

I juggled the words around,

Hoped for new meaning.

Everyday had new questions,

And I answered for you, in my own words.


*
  
Thursday. Amma is refused a promotion. 

She is doing what she is passionate about now, they say. 

Any need? 

Not much increment anyway, so...


*

They are passionate about what they say,

They have beautiful words,

Perfectly woven fabric

Visible on walls... banners... in their loudness...

To create a wall

between them

And the people they hate.

But with no peace.