Saturday, January 14, 2012


corrupt gardi halyo
amit trivedi lai pani
hindi cinema le.

'so what exactly am i allergic to?' part three


mostly because it rhymes with


'so what exactly am i allergic to?' part two

maybe the words of the jyotishi when he told me last year:

'i see the disease of skin in your future'

'so what exactly am i allergic to?'

than having your
be your

worst enemy.

Thursday, January 12, 2012


i heard you once.

or wait
i've heard you for an eternity

which one is it?

Wednesday, January 11, 2012


the year we all die

is the year i finally
learned how to live.

there it is


i try to
my love for

but my heartbreak
you own.

this is my entire story


it breaks

again and again and again

just for you

it breaks

because all i want to do is hold you tight

and never let you go

all i want to do

is heal

the both of us -

but how?

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

misanthrope again

oh verse, i am tired of you.

words, you too.

people, especially you.


you yanked the paper from my hands and wouldn't let me have it. it wasn't even finished. i was going to call it 'little girl' because it's about how you're still a child, even though you're also the most grown up person i know. and above all, it was supposed to be really beautiful. the most beautiful thing i would have ever written. because i wanted to make that poem into a bag which would contain all my love for you.

but it had a shitty middle. a really, really shitty middle.

because i lost the middle part on my way to work on my scooter. riding in the mist. most poems come to me when i'm riding. and most of them are forgotten by the time i've hit the brakes. today, all i wanted to do was to rush to school and pick up a pen and put the poem on paper so that it wouldn't vanish altogether and i could give it to you. but i also had class to rush to. i had children to attend to. and i had love to share with them too.

i scattered whatever bit of poetry that had remained on them. they made drawings around basho's old pond. they made laughter amongst themselves. they also made my face into a happy face.

i scattered myself on them too. just like i scatter myself on everything, everywhere i go.

what can i possibly give to you that is whole?


makes me want to burn the paper
i've been writing on

all these words
are all lies anyway

and they would make do just fine

but your words
are truer
than my experiences

than the air i breathe

each word you write
exposes the lie in me

why would you write things to debilitate others so?

Friday, January 6, 2012



unbutton your pants
unzip the zip

just let loose
and splay

time of day.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012


my mother says that it was
carnation not

whatever the case
you were smart
to wrap it in newspaper
and foolish
to stick the paper together with
scotch tape -
what did you think that is made of?

you were also foolish
to give me
the best conversation
i've had over a coffee table

i think i felt god eye me once
peering from behind
that blue mug of 'regular' coffee

you were foolish because
this conversation has wrapped itself
around my heart -
without any scotch tape, mind you -
and will stay there forever

now all my conversations across
coffee tables
will be measured against this.

majaak nai garne ho bhane

Nepali haru lai pani Time person of the year banaam na.
Loadshedding bhanne word invent gareko ma.

Prophetic wisdom gleaming in one word -

equipping future tongues
all over the world with vocabulary
to iterate the eternal darkness
that is their destiny.

the girl who carries milan kundera in her bag

off-white jacket
brown stockings
leather boots
dark brown woolen skirt -

i lost my heart in the shape of diamonds
that pattern your skirt.

as i'm coming back home through the
invisible dust of the night -
loneliness stinging my cheeks,
or is it just the wind?

may it also be possible
that i be the most special person in your life?

it mightn't

but that doesn't stop me from wishing.



a poet's worst enemy.

Monday, January 2, 2012

flip the coin

there's no such thing as bad luck.

also in this story

how i miss dancing with you

let's dance to invisible tunes

like invisible people
dancing on the moon.

let's, let's sing
and let's

so in this story

i saw a rainbow
and it reminded me so much of you

did you know

that you are also a rainbow
one that has delivered
a pending childhood to me
at this age

you've known

and yet you always
like being told.

so in this story

"there is no poem for me on gooeyjournalism" re.

poems lekhchhu
tara publish gardina.

malai matrai dukha dinchhas? mora!

"there is no poem for me on gooeyjournalism"

so in this story

while you were away
winter suddenly became my favourite season

i remained at your door for several days
twisted doughnuts remained uneaten

so while you were away
i became a big, big girl
in this big, big city

eating little, little momos that
you will be horrified to know
had chicken pulp in them

even longing for you is full of sweetness

tyei pani

kahile kaahi ta

dhoka kholnus
phone uthaunus
malai bhetna office aunus.

in the affirmative


i will not touch

what can i say

soaking in the sweetness
of your words

stirring your memory
with bluing fingers

temptations linger


i'll just have to die of thirst.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

kasari sutu?



the cold wants to be my bedfellow tonight.

written on the body

illegible scrawls.

your pen

hits and misses