The Slowness of Summer

in Milibhagat with Mradul


A warm unforgiving rain falls upon us all
Agitated fingers rest on a crumbling wall
A singular light bulb on the lonely terrace
and a cupboard filled with talking mothballs.

Last year I saw some fireflies in a dream
Pregnant with moonlight
Only an unheeded light bulb knows
The unbearable being-ness of light

Staring at the slowness of summer
And deciphering it's colour
Fingers slowly turn into a fist
And weary feet move subconsciously

Mincing dreams carefully
To accommodate them in paltry pockets
I turn my eyes to the dark sky
And fill them with rain water

The Water Bottle And The Candle In The Darkness

in milibhagat with mradul

for the orange on my table
and the water bottle beside it
for the evening in my head
and no strength to fight it

for the rock song in the dead
and the urgency to ride it
for the candle in the darkness
and no desire to light it

is it about us anymore
or the dreams that went by
is it about the empty street
or no reason left to die

is it about the muddy river
and the kites above that fly
is it about sleepless eyes
and no tears left to dry

Departure

-Mradul and self

I need life like a ton of bricks
A beggar's bag of magic tricks
Where a simple sigh would suffice
I look forward to a tragic flick

A flick with an orange autumn bridge
Atop a forest, quiet and thick
and watch the birds return again
to the place they sleep, and talk and sit

I'll make a house with leaves and sticks
I never liked the smell of bricks
When I'm needed to move ahead
I'll settle down in the place I pick

In an open field i long to die
Beside some tree and maybe you
wherever i go whatever i do
this is one dream that wont get big

Hope

Trickling from a flower
An early morning rain
A spray of light mist
That makes you live again

The last thing you look for
The last place you see
A long night without rest
To a day that can't be

Sifting through the debris
Promising another chance
Forgotten adventures
A lingering romance

Aim without a target
And gather what you make
Hope is all-conquering
It'll never let you break

The Comedian Soliloquy

He struggled weakly with his opening lines
And smiled as he saw the time pass by
He counted the seconds to take his cue
His counted the audience, they were too few

He told a joke that no one laughed at
He turned to look where that girl had sat
He took a sip from his hip flask
And went on with his thankless task

He searched his pockets for lost papers
And turned to tell another comic caper
He realized he played to an empty hall
His voice reflected by bare walls

He returned home without being paid
He didn't curse or put it to fate
The Comedian for all purposes was broke
He laughed and worked it in a joke