I Love Me

Indulge yourself today.

When you crave for cake

Bake yourself some cookies too.

Life is hard 

On most days. 

On most days

The bath water isn't warm enough,

The coffee isn't strong enough,

The air isn't clean enough. 

The neighbour's cry is loud,

The boss's commentary incessant,

The landlord's wails annoying. 

The roads are muddy,

You don't get a taxi when you need one,

And after walking ten blocks

You realise you forgot your phone

In that cafe where you bought

The not-strong-enough coffee. 

Life is a bitch

On most days;

So indulge yourself

On that one day,

In that one time

When the world is shut indoors

Like a grounded teenager.

Bake yourself a cake, some cookies,

Some kindness. 

You deserve a kiss

From your lover and your child-

Sure.

But first, a kiss for yourself,

An inward twist of metaphorical lips

To shower appreciation 

For yourself for doing

The best you can.

Imposter syndrome be damned.

You've got this,

With more surety than you admit to.

You deserve more cake.

Internal

Is it okay

To write about 

Dreamers, lovers and poets

When the world gasps for air

And pandemonium 

Is as rampant 

As the pandemic?

Does it hurt sentiments

And seem frivolous and foolhardy

To imagine 

A sunny afternoon

With a pair of arms 

To garland your weary shoulders?

To wish for

A happier end to an unhappy year?

To long to feel

That familiar itch of excitement

Of a new town, 

A new cuisine,

And a new language

That romances the tongue 

Gently, but surely,

So that the only insecurity

You have left

Is of not being able 

To sing each sentence 

Like a blackbird's song,

Like a violinist's confession,

Like a muezzin's call to prayer. 

"I cannot rest from travel".

But for now, 

I must travel within.

Despair

In the midst of chaos,

I try to look at the red flowers

That grow unassumingly 

In my unkempt backyard and wonder

If they know

How fucked the world is right now. 

I wonder if the kingfisher

That my son and I often spot

From the nursery window

Gives a hoot about 

Viruses, wars and religions.

I'm sure my dog is happier 

Than he lets on.

He has better things to worry about

Than money or rations or broken backs;

For example-

"Is that the neighbour's cat I just smelled?"

Or

"Should I be barking at that dalmatian?"

And the neighbour's cat is definitely

Better off.

There's always enough milk,

The sun is always shining,

And there are always enough rats

To get by on through these days,

Through this life. 

Bed Story

When you aren't around,

And I'm nowhere to be seen

You can simply find me

On your side of the bed. 

Trying to smell the sheets,

Caressing your pillow,

Hiding under your blanket. 

It smells of linen, freshwater,

And a cozy fireplace

By which we hang Christmas stockings

And discuss the dreams

That we see for each other.

And when you return,

I breathe a sigh of relief-

I can't hold fort without you.

This bed is too big,

And I am too little without you. 

First Words

Maybe the reason why
A baby's first words are baba and mama
Isn't hidden in physiological technicalities.
Maybe the syllables are uttered
As the earliest confession
By the child
Who is trying to tell us
Who matters the most.
Creators, nurturers, providers;
Maybe the little new heart already knows
Who made it,
And has decided to pay an ode to them
With these new sounds.
Mama.
Baba.
Like the flapping of wings of a happy bird
That has finally reached home, safe and sound.
  

Epigram

That coffee and coffin

Are separated by two tiny letters

Must be an unlikely coincidence

That chose to be

Merely to tease the tongue.

Fuel your rusted engines with one,

And rest in peace in the other. 

One of life's little epigrams-

Meant to tickle, threaten and also announce

How little control we have

Over the energies on earth.

We are God's puppets, dancing,

On a tinderbox of mystique.

The Audacity Of Womankind

You might not wish to share

Your deepest thoughts;

It may seem like an audacious intrusion

And 

An unwanted attack

On your privacy, your secrecy,

Your softly uttered opinions. 

Or you may be like me-

Who adores the stage,

The spotlight, and the applause.

Who has learnt to be loud,

To yell, to roar and to sing

With abandon and gaiety and courage-

Because that is the only way

The world hears women. 

I have learnt 

To turn up the volume.