Old Woman

 

All day along she sits by the window 

watching people go about their business. 

Some smile, some wave, some nod to say hello-

she finds these greetings a bit meaningless. 

Sometimes someone drops by for a quick chat

which lifts her spirits just a little bit. 

Sometimes someone brings flowers, pats her back-

finds nothing to offer but some lame wit. 

She longs to talk but hears the clock ticking 

so her words jumble, tumble and overlap. 

The past overflows memories leaking,

and those tears or joys seem a bizarre yap. 

She sits by the window, asks for our time,

long talks- and a clock with no hands, no chime. 

Red Checkered Wallet

 

Stuffed with my identities

a red checkered wallet lies. 

Old photos and old cities-

knots of memories it unties. 

I stare at it quite often

but I rarely carry it. 

It helps my nerves to soften

as my past nears bit by bit. 

When it gets worn out and blurred-

It will lie in my cupboard. 

Cauliflower

 

I never liked cauliflower - still don’t. My hate for this vegetable goes back to my college days. Once I drank half a bottle of rum and ate cauliflower like crazy - those days it didn’t matter what you ate after drinking.  And so - after drinking, what felt like, gallons of rum I puked - and the floor became a cauliflower garden. So I gave up - not drinking - but cauliflower. 

My mom had a belief that one should eat all the vegetables and since I didn’t like cauliflower ( not aware of the reason ) she was hell bent on feeding me. So she devised a plan. 

She cut this bloody cauliflower into small pieces and shoved it into pav bhaji. She camouflaged it like a true detective that she was -some secret mission.  She served me pav with this bhaji, and  sat back. Generally there was always a smile on her face when she served food but this time there was no smile and so I suspected something fishy. And then I spotted just a tiny bit of my nemesis sticking out of the well disguised bhaji.  To not disappoint her I ate the bhaji with extra pav so as to reduce the know-ability of cauliflower. She smiled and asked me - How is the bhaji?- 

I said - It is terrific -

She smiled even broader and said - There was a bit of cauliflower in it - 

I gave a silly-overacting-astonished look and said - I don’t believe it-

She busted out laughing and said - See, you like my cauliflower. 

I nodded vigorously - overacting in full force. 

I hated to spoil her secret tactics. And went along with it. But told her laughingly not to do that again else I would fear eating pav bhaji next time.

She said ok.  But she did that again many times. And I acted even more stupidly every time.  We played along with this game for quite some time. 

After many years of this, she eventually stopped making cauliflower pav bhaji.

One day we talked about it and I told her that she quite fooled me with that dish. She was getting old but more alert.  She rested her legs on the table, reclined her head and said

 - Oh! of course you knew there was cauliflower in it. You just played along to please me - 

she smiled and then added 

- hope your acting has improved since then-

She passed away a few days later. 

I wish to have that cauliflower bhaji again. 

Niyo

 

A silent strength you possess-

lazy bum precious priceless. 

Kings and queens maybe many

but just one little princess.