2:45

Right here is a world of dreams
And a world of wakefulness
Their denizens, you and I
It was all very charming though!

The smell of garlic, sautéed
Huge fluffed pillows, black
Gin ’n’ apple nectar, 2:00
Movies and cigarettes

May be a lunch for the three?
(Speaking for me, rather not.)
Yes, you always did believe
All that I said, to a fault.

Not being able to say
What I ought to: that was mine
So, did I come here for this?
Not merely, at least…I hope.

And I keep asking myself
Was this first visit only
To say good bye to old times?
More convincingly, may be?

WINTER IN THE CAPITAL

Cold hands, cold feet
Just the memory of a sun
Remind me again, why I'm here...
There — the phone rings.

That does ring a bell too:
You have surely moved on
So have I, I suppose
Just a pang still remains
Lost time never returns
Nor love, when you give up.

Tagore: NATYAGEETI, 11

O friend, what is care? O friend, what is pain?
You all talk of ‘love’ time and again —
What is called love, O dear friend?
Is it full of woes to the end?
Is it only tears? Only sighs of grief?
Such plight men desire for what relief?

All I behold is beauty divine
All full of youth, all is so pure,
Verdant gardens, and skies azure,
Petal-soft moonlight — all is like mine.

They know only laughter, only songs do they know,
in playful mirth do they come and go
No trace of sorrow, no lament to share
They know not the distress of care.

The flowers, they wither with a smile
With a smile does the moonlight fade
Scattering laughter in an ocean of lights
The stars disappear in the shade

Who is there as contented as I?
O friend do come by my side —
With a gay song of my heart’s delight
shall the weight of your heart be light

You only want to grieve everyday
let us make merry for once
For once forgetting all sorrow
let us all sing and dance

L’ABATTOIR De L'AMOUR

With words we duel
Beastly lord and me, nightlong.
Pitiless passion

Tired submission.
And the beast evanesces
His oestrum sated

Tattered I lay
On the shores of a moon-sea
Caput mortuum

HAIKU

Shivering winter.
Lonely on a double bed
My blankets miss you.

*

Love is there no more

And I am done with mourning.

Only weariness.

*

The hours crawl by.
Creaking stretches punctuate
Listless existence.