February 20, 2012

Off the top of my head-10

Life crumpled like a paper left to burn alone. No wind to tarry its death, no water to douse its fears.

Off the top of my head-9

She and struggle, went back a long way.

As friends or as foes, she never could tell. 

Off the top of my head-8

To yearn, is to sign up for slavery to whatever you yearn for. Nothing can distract you from it.

Toilet Grafitti

They used to scare me- those grafitti of human anatomy that lined the walls of train toilets. No one
spoke about them to me, but of course, everyone must have known they were there. But to a little kid,
these were as scary as spooks.

Everytime I travelled by train, I used to instantly go and check the toilet, fearing their presence . It
used to worry me that people resorted to such obscenities. I vividly remember,, once reading “fuck
the nun” in the wall and discovering, to my raw horror, that there actually were a bunch of nuns in my

That night, I did not sleep well.

The next morning, I ran to see if the nuns were safe. They were talking amongst themselves normally and nothing seemed amiss. I breathed, relieved!

Many years later, after obscenity has become more common and human failings familiar, the toilet
grafitti does not bother me.

But even today, every once I enter an Indian train toilet, I scan the walls for fading ball point ink marks
and wonder which of the many I share space with, have such dark secret obsessions.


Heat licking my bare neck
like snake fingers!

Exposed metal grilles
slaking thirst, drinking heat.

Glass shards reflecting
rays piercing like needles.

Sweat droplets on the temple
water sprinkler on plants at noon.

Hot air gushing into the caves of the nose
melting the stony blockades.

Water down the throat
killing my insides with its heat.

Blue nerves thawing slowly
geyser water at work on bare skin.

Steam collecting on mirror surfaces
when a breath is made captive.

Near invisible waves in air,
slowly escaping a plugged iron.

Amalgamation of rice, dhal, salt
in a secret pot of hot air.

Potato on water, boiling
bobbing up and down, like excited kids.

Cackling oil in cauldrons on fire
witch dreams coming real.

Matches and magnifying glasses
little magic brewed at the backyard.

Foot dipped in the beach at noon
white heat scalding to a near death.

Engines puffing and panting
with the weight of people's hopes.

Buildings dancing to still air
heat waves dictating their moves

Pieces of heaven stoning the earth
asteroid showers and celestial fireworks.

Water snaking its way through hills
like curled up swords on a mossy throne.

Dried up ponds dreaming of better days
as the last drop bids its goodbye

February 10, 2012

A parrot scratches
at my window pane
little marks on the glass.
I can see them
especially when the sun rises
the little scrape glints
catching the light
I move away
thank god
there are no cracks!

February 06, 2012

Memory Catcher

What do I take from everyday
the little notifications?
the stolen glances
or reflections on the monitor?

what do I string together
into a sparkling chain
I could dangle around my writst?

When I walk around 
I know it would ring
of all the laughter
that we shared.

"Where I let the silence take over"

(Title Credit: Somdutt Sarkar)

It was like a silent syllable that suggested, merely by its presence. But somewhere a red giant burst, a supernova exploded, and a dying star ceased to exist. And something new was about to be born...

February 04, 2012

Off the top of my head- 7

It is a Saturday. Your work is going good. You ate idlies and vadais for breakfast in Aapnu Amdavad. You are listening to your chosen music.

Some days you are happy to just be.
© Dryad's Peak
Maira Gall