Category: India

This (is not a) love poem.

I don’t write love poems.
I’ve spent so many years reading
these poems of passion
and tales of truth.
And I’ve spent just as long
feeling like a girl
For whom this love had no time for.

So I don’t write love poems.
But I do write poems about you.

I write about falling headfirst into an abyss of adventure
And I write about my burning eyes
Fixed on the bright lights of tomorrow.
A tomorrow that is ours, but does not belong to us.

I write about the wind in my hair on the trains of Bombay
that I’ve fallen in love with
And I write about the same scenes that mean a thousand different things
Every time we race past.
I wonder if you ever see your city through my eyes
The way I sometimes see mine through yours.

I write about how you fill my mind
with a new world of wonder.
Architecture and Indian Gothic,
History and Music,
Planets and Stars
that seem to shine especially bright
When both our eyes scan the sky,
For the constellations that we know,
And those who know us.

I write about the dull ache that has started to spread,
keeping time with the impending distance.
A symphony of sadness and suspense.
Our ongoing anthem of what’s next, and where to.

This romantic tragedy I make no attempt to escape from.
Though Mars is always too far away
She burns just as bright and bold
Even when you can’t see her.
Her presence a greater pleasure
When you can.

In this chaos I find simplicity and I find peace.
In pixelated Skype calls I find closeness.
In the pictures you draw I find the stories we continue to write.
In our stories I find adventure.
And in adventure I find love.

I don’t write love poems.
But I do write poems about you.





India: Where not everyone fits.


You think you have seen,
And then you see India.

India and her singsong accents.
India and her deafening crowds.
India and the smiling eyes of her people.
India and eyes devious with chance.

India and her energy.
India and her death.

There is space for everyone in this city
Where not everyone fits.

*The above is an excerpt from a longer poem that I’m still working on.