Rugged tapestry of nature is a sight to behold.
textures and hues never dreamed,
forms never imagined
present themselves as trivia
lessons in modesty begin at 15000 feet
Lichens
2
Fences
Fences; time to mend
Mount Maiktoli
O Godess, the great white mantle
kissed by first ray you take wings
and fly secret ways
of course behind
you leave some things
penitence dew
a mountain sigh
to count a few
Nursery rhyme
There is this land still
where seasons sow and till
wind gently rows
through sea of quiet
summer flowers on trees burn
lapping waves of quiet return
where silence has her sounds still
dreams bedspread with butterfly frill
Parallel lives
My maiden sofobomo project;
start date 21st November 2014, end date; 21st december 2014
Parallel lives is inspired by Vishnu Prabhakar’s book in Hindi “Samanantar Rekhayain” (transliterated Parallel lines). The book carries pen sketches of the lives of ordinary people who were very close to him. In his own words he tries to explore the extraordinariness of seemingly ordinary people. My maiden sofobomo ( solo photography book month) project Parallel lives is an attempt to portray lives and struggles of the people I meet almost everyday. So far they are just faces. By the time I finish the project the postman, the newspaper boy, the vegetable vendor would all have names I would remember for all time.
Poem of grass
I am going to….
deeply directional, does
I am going… suffice not?
Isn’t going leaving too?
Ok what about
I am…
But that’s a proclamation
and I..?
Just I..? still an outsider
wipe the slate of I
then go
wherever
stay ungone.
Absence
Stay drunk let frivolity
froth and meaning
as heavy as meaning languish
in insipid aftermath, un-drunk and leftover
who cares!
In this glass
what levitates lifts
what gravitates sinks
In this hour absentees count
defer your presence
for now
Irom Charu Sharmila
Irom Charu Sharmila
the youngest of nine
with christian first name
manipuri second
hindu third enters
fourteenth year of fast
unto death, a record of sorts
for guiness, incumberance
for state
on death bed she lies
tethered and force fed
through glucose line
just enough to keep her
from dying, just enough
that she can be dumped
by minions
like opinion when time’s ripe.
Below text from Kindle special edition; 25 mindset women
Sharmila’s fast is an open act of political dissent against an entire culture of trying to shove a view point through the barrel of the gun. Her fast unto death began as response to the Malom massacre on Nov 2, 2000 when security forces killed 10 innocent civilians 12 km away from the heart of Imphal (India). The importance of her act lies in bringing about a change in the culture of violence in the north-east.
Gul Mohammad
He has come again..
this year selling shawls
warmth his ware, dogs bark chase and sniff
tyrant in his body
aged more than year before
taut pink of his face
now partitioned by lines
he doesn’t control
distant look in his eyes this fall
remembering home, living
on both sides of the wailing wall
his feet heavy and sore with walking
voice hoarse from talking people
into buying a yard of warmth
‘tis high moon he rests, outstretched body in sun
head in dappled shade listening to chirps of migratory birds
tree their only anthem wind only hymn
stitching the poles their solemn oath
caprice of lines on land notwithstanding
he too a material metaphor of flight
migrates each winter
caprice of lines on hand notwithstanding
living there aging here
selling yards of warmth
fervent than nations’ anthem
takers come and wait
for his namaaz to be over
with desire to buy
partitioned face glows into smile
now the wind blows leaves drop
as blessings, birds take off
now he gets up with his ware and staff
strides on Gul Mohammad
I look on till he disappears into horizon
from where he will appear again next year
aged more
dogs will bark chase and sniff
tyrant in his body
aged more than year before
but he will come, come again next year.
The Landless Kings
Journey of Nirvair Singh to Burma and Thailand attempts to capture the grace of the underdog.
tranquildarts 