Life is 10th class

One more year of struggle 

And life would be set-

The preparatory exam is

Due tomorrow and you 

Haven't read anything yet.

Teachers say you should 

Study hard. 

The principal says yours 

Is the worst batch.

You try to put yourself into 

Blinders to stay focused 

But Neha keeps coming 

To mind.

There's still a lot of syllabus 

To cover but all your

Head can muster is ways to

Wish her "all the best".

Unable to recall the value

Of Sin 30 and Cos 60..

Unable to understand 

What's "Quite India" all about..

Somewhere you're still that

Teen of class 10.

Secretly praying for grace

Marks, you still believe that

Choosing humanities would 

Make your life easy.

But you don't know yet,

How misery does salsa 

Even there.

Ray of Hope

The words have decided 

To abscond from the 

Pages of my diary.

The photographs have

Decided to fade away from 

The old albums.

An invisible hand holds

The face of all the memories 

Against a wall and rubs it up

Till the skin comes off.

What's left is a white blanket 

Of salt- sour and saline.

But despite the douse 

And despite the dusk.

Something inside makes

A strong appeal for 

Resurgence.

Who's there? It asks.

Who's there?

And there's a subtle 

Knock from the other side.

And that seems enough.

It's someone's presence

That challenges the 

The stink of inevitable..

Like fragrance.

Like a single breath is 

Mightier than death.

A thought of you beats 

The shit out of oblivion.

Two Emotions

If you laugh when you 

Badly wanna cry.

Is it still sadness?

And sink within when you

Really wanna laugh it out. 

It's still happiness?

And when you cry so

Hard sometimes.

Your tears flowing down

Your nose.

Mixing with the nasal

Fluid and finding 

Way to your mouth.

The salty taste that

Invokes mother's 

Brutal beatings from

Your childhood...

The silent laugh from 

Your eyes that doesn't 

Translate on your lips-

What do you call it?

This gap in your 

Language that can't 

Handle two emotions 

At once.

What do you call it?

One Language

In the house that was 

Cozy and vast.

We had 10,000 windows.

Maybe more.

Then they said,

Tinting with aluminium 

Frames would be nice.

One at a time, 

over the years,

The clean blue sky

Turned pink, red, pale

And what-not.

Before we could realize 

What was at play,

That's what the nation 

Wants they said.

You gotta see through 

Our eyes and speak

Through our tongues.

"One Nation. 

One Language."

And when they gave 

The final makeover to

Our last window,

The last hope of clean light 

Shone bright at our faces.

But we didn't have a 

Vocabulary of our own

To scream a protest.

And when the last word of 

My language fell flat on 

The road- with the final 

Window down.

They checked if the last

Person can dream in

My lang and reciprocate.

And when there was 

Nothing.. 

They hosted a funeral on 

The graveyard of our 

Tongues to celebrate

National integrity..

Unity in diversity was 

The theme.

Om Mangalam

In my region, everyone's 

Surname is of a distant village.

And if you ask them why

They'd tell you a story of 

How their ancestors killed 

Someone and fled their 

Original settlement.

My own Lineage goes back 

To a neighboring state. 

My grandfather's 

Great-Grandfather killed

Someone and fled his village.

Everyone has the same story.

Most of them at least.

And I hope it's the same 

Across the country. 

Or maybe across the world.

We're all refugees it seems.

Guilty of crimes. 

Seeking a place to hide. 

Maybe the entire world 

Is an asylum like that.

Maybe that's how the 

Civilizations here began.

Maybe we fled Mars after 

Killing all the trees.

Guilty of doing the same here.

GENES!!!

Maybe be the first man on

Earth was called John Mars

At some point of time.

Or perhaps he was a 

South-Indian named Sreenu.

Aka Mangalam Sreenu.

And maybe that's why 

Mars is always pissed off

In our astro profiles.

Mangalam Sreenu is antagonist 

In the movie Puspa 

Shooting Blanks

Picasso had a revolver

To shoot blanks at whoever 

Asked the meaning of

His paintings.

Out of frustration he

Loaded it for real once,

To shoot whoever asks

For a meaning.

But no one asked 

Any questions that day.

Just smiled at his art

And moved on.

He felt so violated that

He held the gun to his 

Temple for quite a while 

That night.

At the final moment,

It occurred to him to 

Paint something for 

One last time.

"A revolver that shot

Flowers when fired".

The abstract was so good 

He decided not to die.

Then it was sold for a 

Record price.

And when someone 

Asked what's the meaning.

He again shot blanks to

Convey how each painting 

Saved his life.

Her Superlatives

The way they call her a

Juicy meat-

Dogs must be feeling

Her between their teeth.

Someone said she's a

Cute pussy-cat,

Rats must be terrified of

Her presence at night.

Pristine as primordial fire. 

She saves demigods from 

Conditional hypothermia?

Soothing as breeze.

Light as a bird's feather.

Intoxicating like a flower.

Someone even called her

Soft as a baby's butt.

And the way they touch 

Baby bottoms on live TV..

She must feel abused

Everytime there's a 

Diaper-ad.

Ochre

Ochre-faced dreams haunt me.

I try to remember why I call it 

Ochre but I can't recall.

The quest takes me to an ancient 

Cave. Pitch dark and only a 

Kerosene torch to look ahead.

The smell of soot, cough and 

Ancient cold in tattered clothes. 

I hold the torch to the walls-

The Cave-Paintings in red dye. 

Hunting, Killing, and boiling 

Cauldrons with bodies..

A sudden slam of pale face at me.

It's my History teacher yelling 

"Ochre is Ferrous oxide..

Mineral used in cave paintings."

Ancient piss tightens my bladder.

I wake up. 10th class history paper 

And there's that question.

Occhre I write. A caveman comes

Running and slaps me for the

Spelling mistake I made.

Suddenly I am in a class at

The edge of a mountain.

Writing ochre a hundred.

Only question in mind.. why is 

English ma'am naked?

The PE sir charges at me with 

Cuss words after that thought.

Seems they're a thing from ancient 

Times. But why the hell he would 

Speak correct English this time?