Sunday, July 10, 2016

Overfriendly dreams

Almost midnight child
time to choose your dream,
enter the disco walls
prepare yourself to show off to the self-satisfied
gentlemen and ladies,
smile
sweetly walk to the edge of the dream,
look beyond, it's the golden sand,
toss it into the eyes of the men,
spare the ladies
but they are watching you closely
frothing at their mouths
did they distract you
move on,
you have a cruel night to pass

do you like sailors and the ocean?
the ship is waiting to take us
to another world
climb on to this one now
the ladies are long gone,
start over,
a pensive, melancholic music wrapping us
into its covers
head spinning into a blinding light
we give birth to a city,
another world 
but we are still running
as we have always been,
haunted by the sickness of life,
pulled in and out, the fuzzy palace 
of sheer madness,
the smog of boredom,
over-educated brain,
mean children,
none of the puzzles fall into line

we move on to another dream.

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Anatomo politics of human body

And we can all sit back and shun
textual reading of power,
power we see and yet we don't see
these tangles of human relations

First your seizure of things -
time, bodies, life,
your right to bring death upon me, upon us
as if the world knew only a macabre business of annihilation
but I held onto my body,
somehow I held onto it or
maybe it never occurred to you to thrash me
where it hurts most,
slowly
gradually
lynching me by striping me off.

How long though?

Your power adapts to new forms, now you want to
fight wars on behalf of existences,
situate its elements within me 
within my body, within my species
Yes, my body, my sex,
constituting an anatomo politics
I am a machine now 
all of us are -
judged on our docility, usability
disciplined to be integrated into more efficient
economic social controls,
extorted biological existence 
remade into tools of political order,
deploying sexuality as a technology for power wars.

It's a political issue now-
my sex, you see
an access to my body and life
and all that goes with it -
health, children, parenthood, family
A stamp of my individuality
you want to master it
make it a theme of your political operations
economic interventions -
yes curb my freedom to procreate
or just sterilize me at your will
or to your pleasure, go ahead hysterize my female/male body
or if it serves your agenda, make me an outcast
after all my sex is the perfect 
disciplinary standard
an ideological status for a healthy society
a society of morals and responsibilities.

Everything, everything is about sex
but sex
only power is speaking - of sexuality,
to sexuality.



Thursday, September 24, 2015

Inclusive

Ineffable it is, 
much of the mush of the lives
so closely overwhelming each other's
presence and bodies and notebooks
and what not
and so we build our
dreamy home overflowing in cherry juice,
you a mirror to all my uncanny moods
adorn the walls with pictures
of us 
doing all sort of random trickstery

Paper rings float and we look out of window
to find spring and winter
all through one blink of an eye

I am a charmed up little girl, 
watering the lilies
in the morning

and suddenly everything is so bright.

Monday, June 29, 2015

Paints

Great expectations we have
but I don't know how to put words in our story,
in the conversations while I look at you
or maybe I just want to look at you
without words
I am searching for the brushes again,
for the charcoal and paints and canvas
but I don't know how to paint you
would you be my benefactor?
clinching our destinies in the fist 
abiding by the rules of your coming from future -
hold my fingers
help me trace your veins
tilt the body and let me lambaste it 
with my lips -
help me paint again,
paint you, paint the moon
paint each strand of hair
a different color
of all the people in the world

I don't know what to do with myself
dismissing seconds and minutes and hours 
and time
in its whole
to the crater deep inside my mind
while I see your real pretty body
and your unadulterated movements
all around myself

but for now, help me paint again
maybe dip my hands into the paints
or hurl them all over me,
us
or kiss the cherries upon me
and take me to the world
where I just paint
at all the times of the life
our life, I preserve it 
The seagulls just behind our place
help not give away the love sounds
and I color myself all colors
to pluck your love in all motions

One day people come and
look at those paintings
maybe in my own show,
doubting and criticizing and
admiring and ignoring the meaning they seize
for themselves
You look at me and see
what I left in each of those paintings

and you and me,
we are not slave to words.

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Feminism - All women for all women?

Feminism, you say
this feminism we learn in ambiguity
who we? we women, who we women?
we white women,
we upper caste women
we middle class women, we educated women
we media women, we women who meet 
in big conference halls, we women who say 
we are the new future, we women who claim 
to the right of choices, we women who organize 
campaigns to empower women

empower who women? 

don't question just yet!

we women who live
in our version of reality, we women who only know
a misconstrued utopia, we women who live 
in our small world;
we women
who speak for women, we women 
who liberate women, we women
who make movies and documentaries about women, 
we women, the one percent who represent 
half of our sex - whatever that is, 
we women who understand women

understand who women?

the women who live on other side of the world,
women we have never met or seen or whose lives
we never lived through,
women we want to discipline,
women we want to show what is being women
women we know who are foolish to not rise against violence - 
how difficult can that be?
women we hear who suppress their dreams
unlike us
who contrive and reach our skies,
skies - women whose skies are black,
women whose world is black
these women we want to train at being 'women'
these women we want to school about menstruation and its taboos
these women we want to instruct about their sex lives
these women we want to authorize about rearing their toddlers
these women we want to indoctrinate feminism in

oh that word again!

shhh.. pause.
these women we want them to judge their labour economically
these women we want them to demand their equal rights

and most of all,

these women who we know nothing about
these women whose lives we cannot imagine
even in the darkest of our dreams
these women whose circumstances we can never understand,
the circumstances which make an alternate reality impossible
these women who we claim to represent but 
who are really an empty category in our fight
for feminism,

for feminism is our dominant sphere
where we demand equal rights for women - 
who women - white women, upper caste women
middle class women, educated women,
media women

and we are here to speak for all women

we don't know how women who were married off at ten
and violated the same night live each day
but we will shout about exercising our sexual choice
we have no clue about how she was forced 
into producing five children
but we will outcry about our right of reproductive choices
we cannot see how this women was made to quit school
for the sake of her brother's status
but we will glib about our right to universal education
we have not witnessed her dreams being crippled
with the cries of society and honour and shame and what not
but we will make our shallow calls of rising against the tide

we don't know how half of the world functions
behind our eyes
but we will cover that up with our occasional conferences
and discussions and coffee table chats and newspaper 
editorials and media bullshit
and feminism rants

wasn't feminism about questioning the social reality -
social reality of all,
equal rights whatever they are - 
equal rights for all
wasn't it supposed to be all women for all women
and we are not even talking about men here.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Sketching Boa Constrictors

Two worlds away
or maybe three,
you lived in your light
flickering through a huge mountain
of snow
I caught a sight of you
and I want to fly
with you
right through big clouds and thick trees
in the deserts
invisible to Sarah 
and everyone who don't see
the shower of meteors 
right in the backyard
at all nights
Do I not belong here?
right with you
among the travellers 
of the planets,
while I create playful storms
to blow Sarah's hair  
and wait for you 
to plant flowers 
all around the house
and roads and glass and
trucks and ships and
aeroplanes
and we tame mantis shrimps
to play with us when
we jump into water
and color ourselves rainbow and
tickle it, I tickle you,
we laugh till the dead of night
is quickly passed into
another break of light
You are the reverie I am lost into,
all this while
Do I not belong with you?
And I know I do,
the heart sees it rightly,
for all that is essential,
is invisible to eye.

Monday, April 13, 2015

Phosphorescent

Almost a jaded body,
I am marking my steps 
to fall just next to you,
expecting a perfect moonlight 
and counting on the fingers 
to see if the opposites meet.
What we said last night about
the cages we have been living in,
forging and reforging in our sleep,
it's a lie of the mind -
a perfect illusion of the conscious,
anomaly in our theory 
and what will we discern in the moonlight,
with slight tremors beneath our feet
and crackling of stars above our heads
that we are,
but only rising in these times of our lives.

For Akshat.