20 June 2013


In the Neighbourhood- Part 2

Bustu aka Nangu dost from Part 1 of this Title may well become the mini- hero of my series. He continues to capture the imagination of my family and I.
It is Bustu that I watch from my window sipping my morning cuppa...running amuck in all his glory. The antics he indulges in are a captivating joy to us.
Hair flying wildly, a loose hand-me-down shirt adorning him, the little fella can be seen dipping his toothbrush into unwashed dishes piled into a bucket by his mum and even drinking water out of the same bucket. The other day he brushed his own teeth and those of a little girl's alternately brushing each little set and dipping the implement into afore-mentioned bucket, for effect or for added flavour- or whatever. Who knows what runs in his little head.
Later in the day his head sleek with oil and combed with a fine-toothed comb, he flaunts pigtails, sometimes with the addition of a string of jasmine flowers placed there by his fond mother.
At times he looks up at the balcony/window and sees us and sometimes we succumb to temptation and call out to him. A face splitting grin later he endeavours to call anyone he can see around him and points to us excitedly. An introduction. Language not necessary. Not yet learnt. All his self expression is in mischievous-intelligent play and squeals.
A good friend of mine knows of him, through the blog and also chatting on phone. She got him a T-shirt all the way from the U.S. of A. Unbelievable. Now we will have to visit him to deliver the gift. A picture of him might find its way in another post. Some day. Till then, Goodbye.

 Links to Part 1 and Part 3
In the neighbourhood-Part 1
In the neighbourhood-Part 3

17 April 2013

Into my skin

In the space between blinks I've stepped out of the present
Onto a smorgasboard of thoughts
A tangled web of past-present-future
A long exhale drops me back Into my own skin

I pass through my ribcage and Settle
Somewhere in the cavernous recesses of my gut
Inside this star shaped bag that I live in
Of limbs and Head

A bronze-dark sheath stretched out end to end
A gleaming bag cannot contain me
And I strain again and again To flow out- to fly out
Only to fall back-into my skin

What is it like, inside my skin?
Kisses raining all over my skin
Made me a Goddess ,greedy-hungry for the adoration
Gashes and scars from a primitive call to blood-letting
Made me curl up like the mimosa-shy of discovery

Even now, Partly hidden-part exposed
While the being hungers
Drooling after Mirages
That amount to Nothing