Category Poem

Stare

“Why are you staring at me?”
I asked her.
“Why was Medusa cursed again?”
She asked back.
“But first decide what do you want?
Hakka noodles or Schezwan?”
“Oh… noodles!” she shrieked.
And I could hear a train whistle,
Train of her thoughts
‘Noodles–Chinese–Chinese eat snakes– snakes yuck–
snakes– Medusa must be hideous’
She was still staring at menu,
and I was losing my patience

Sitting with my computer,
I was singing my heart out
I looked up and she was standing there
Giving me the death stare
I knew the answer yet I asked,
“Why are you staring at me?”
Putting her hands on her waist
She said, “Remind me why I love you
or prepare to die”
I pulled her near, kissed all over her face
Then I continued with my song, she sat there helpless

That one serene morning, I was running my hands
Through her soft hair, over her warm back
and her sleepy cheeks
She lay beside me smiling
And I needed no words to know
Why was she staring at me
Her eyes so eloquent, talk most of the time
They were telling me a love story, of her and mine

And the other night, I was looking at the sky
Deep, dark sky filled with stars
Taking the cold air inside my lungs,
Holding the balcony railing,
I gazed at a star, shining with glee
And I heard her say,
“Why are you staring at me?”

रस्ता (Rasta)

मनात एक रस्ता जातो
पायवाटे इतका चिंचोळा नाही
थोडासा रूंद, दुतर्फा झाडांची रांग
गडद अंधार, कधी लख्ख प्रकाश
हया रस्त्यावर आठवणी फिरतात
एकलकोंडया कधी, कधी एकमेकींचा
धरतात हात

एखाद्या वासागणिक कुठेतरी लपलेली
अल्लड आठवण धावत पळत येते
परकराचा घेर धरत गिरकी घेऊन सांगते
“तेव्हा नाही का सोनचाफयाच्या
झाडाखाली होतीस खेळत
तोच की हा वास
हिच माझी ओळख”

कधी एखाद्या गाण्यासरशी
कोपरयातलया काहीजणी भराभर
येतात वाट काढत
रस्ता संपतो त्या कडयापाशी बसतात
आणि घळाघळा रडतात
इवल्या इवल्या आठवणींच्या
अश्रूंचा बनतो तेव्हा प्रपात
कडयावरून खाली उतरतो
डोळ्यातील पाण्याचा एक टिपूस होऊन

आठवणी वेड्या,  मधेच कधी फेर धरतात
रंगीत संगीत कपडे घालून गाणी म्हणतात
कधी काळे कपडे घालून काढतात मोर्चा
पेटून उठतात कधीकाळी खुपलेल्या काटयावर
डोळ्यात रक्ताच्या साखळ्या बनतात
मग त्यांना आवरणं कठीण होऊन जातं

थोड्या वेळात परंतु हात चालू लागतो
साखळ्या विरू लागतात
काम सुरू होते
मग आठवणी शांत होतात
हळूच परततात झाडांमधल्या आपल्या झोपडीत
शांतपणे झोपी जातात
पांघरूणात शिरून