Friday, March 22, 2024

benaras 2024

At benaras 

My agent gave away plates of breakfast to the sadhus and beggars. One entitled Brahman in my group questioned it. And then that sadhu gave his one plate to several other beghars as they share it.

A photo would demean their dignity.
A photo of my Brahman co traveller would demean mine.

A moment of deep sadness.

I spent a few moments watching bodies burn at the manikarnika ghat. Alone on the boat with the boatman, who seemed to have normalised lying lifeless on a dirty ghat.The women on my trip largely Brahman women and some lingayat women asked me why I was not travelling with my "yajman" their term for husband, and from interpretations of the language "yajman" means that, "owner". And while I responded saying " I don't have one" , I laughed within saying " now, that will be a new one, a yajman for me"!
Kashi, I am told will not let a woman do pind Daan. I shall go to gaya, where I will do it rightfully for my foremothers on their behalf. Well, I don't blame them, my more world wise mother still accuses other women of being divorced, if she could me, she would also. I can empathize that women are taught that they are helpless without the yajman 
I walked past the discrepit missionary home, 
Benaras feels like all those unwanted people recreating another life tucked away in broken mansions.
I enjoyed my boat ride 
I enjoyed the group of Muslim boys playing cricket and the sadhus keeping score.
The Siberian gulls will fly away next week.

my father's suitcase

Acha (father)
Writing to you as our day ends
March 22, 2024
And yours has begun
Onwards
To a distance

As I lay down
After your internally grieving wife
Finally purged her sorrow
Before falling asleep
I'm thinking of what to pack for you 

Like you always wished,
We put your wedding suit on for you
The ivory shirt and the soil brown suit 
Forgot your floral tie though

But form your journey onward. My father.

Let there be 
An abundance of love
No dearth of worldly travels 
A life that is light, may be flippant too
A box full of magic
A breath full of the ridiculous 
A page with bad grammar

May you travel light
In whatever universe you choose

Do carry your courage
And the will to live
But light.. light 


Thursday, February 8, 2024

looks like...

There was once a woman who kept hearth...
The blue windows opened outwards
And she unfurled....

wish for my son, written in bits

I'd like you to have a million million friends. 
And for you to make them 
by giving unconditional love when you encounter them, 
but 
without losing yourself

That, there are only friends and friends

Where you give some in some 
and some more in some 
and a little some in some

And that these friends fill your heart with a lightness that your heart needs
Like the feathers of a bird in flight

To kiss her in her cheeks 
as if she, 
life that is, and you are falling in love
A second time.

The first time is always awkward
Kissing that which we love, the first time is awkward
The second time, we can tease a bit more

Wednesday, January 17, 2024

Saturday, October 8, 2022

nothing

When water bodies breach 
Debris float
And then meander towards the  
already choked manhole;
My debris
needs to be picked:

After my son leaves home..



Sunday, February 21, 2021

to the man-my son

Your father found for us
A Pakistani Doctor
in plush London
Who told us plainly
that you were coming..
I knew, it is you
I cannot recall
our first response
Together, we did not know
he knew his and I did mine.
It was overwhelming
Till your ammamma
Told me she hit a lottery
with the gold locket at the Krishna temple
That same morning..
I knew it is you
It is eighteen.
you chose me to
carry you
that he chose to be the partner soul
Our job together done forever and yet
not
Son,
As you become a man:
own every bit of you
the light, the shadows
run from none
Cry for what the heart calls
Laugh when your soul sings
Create when your eyes see
Love all that touches you
and does not - reach out
Your world
is a gift
from two souls
who promised the universe
you