Grief

‘What does grief look like, mother?’I stopped midwayMy dishcloth hanging in the airFoam dripping off my tired fingersInto the messy sinkAs she looked my way.What do I say?Do I unburden my lifeOnto her innocent shoulders?Or do I just brush it away?But our lives have been brushed away enoughBy rulers and informers,Swept under the carpetHushing our painful criesas they stamped our graves.So I said,‘My daughter, come here, hold my hand’‘Let me...

Continue Reading 15 Nov 2012

Stained Stories

My mama told me storiesOf a time when it didn't rain blood. When there were no wallsOr even shadows of fearMy mama showed meTorn pictures, tinted brown,Of a place so near, yet so farA time removedfrom this living hell.A capture of what wasAnd never will beTwo little girls,Arms intertwined,Wide smiles warming the heartBut then she pointed toA jagged corner withA bloody stain andTold me ‘They took her away’My mama then cried in...

Continue Reading 15 Nov 2012

Broken

I was 7 when you came to see us. You, a visiting relative, came stocked with sweets, toys and tales aplenty. My brothers and I loved you, for you added colour to our bleak, dusty existence. You enthralled us with stories from- what was to us, the biggest wonder in the world- the city. Rapt, we would listen when you described the big buses which can carry A Lot of...

Continue Reading 23 Oct 2012

The Unread

This is dedicated to Malala Yousufzai and thousands of other brave girls like her who put us to shame for our callousness as they tread fearlessly against atrocities. 'The Unread'It didn’t hurtWhen you bombed my courtyardCharring the peepal treeLeaving a blackened swingOn a wounded stub.It didn’t hurt When you scattered the roadsWith severed heads and dismembered limbsColouring the streets redPumping the air with fear.Then you decidedTo hurt me, you’ll have to chain...

Continue Reading 15 Oct 2012

An incredible Bus Ride

A bus ride in India is no joke. It’s something each person wakes up thinking about, getting up half an hour earlier to beat the crowd. Skipping breakfast and rushing goodbyes, we march, as strong soldiers, to the nearest bus stop. With each step our resolve intensifies and an inner strength reveals itself as the big bus trundles in. The bus is a sight in its own right. A big...

Continue Reading 10 Jul 2012

Change

Someone said it right; change is the only constant thing in life. Well, it holds true in my life atleast. Change of places, people, schools…have always been a part of my life. By the age of 18 I’d studied in 10 different schools. Yes, you read it right! Not because I was kicked out or anything, we just kept moving because of my dad’s job. Then once I was in college,...

Continue Reading 19 Jun 2012