Lost

Clicked at Victoria Memorial, Kolkata

I feel alive,
In the company of living breathing trees.
We run like rats in this race,
Only to think we deserve a break.
‘Much needed’
Trade off 300 gloomy days for five in the lap of mountains,
On the surface of seas,
The beaches keep calling,
We fall at ease
Amidst groves and bees.
All this while,
Our forests keep shrinking,
Where do we now seek peace?
I stand in front of an intimidating old woman like this one,
Her roots deep inside the stand she takes,
And holds her ground.
I stand in awe,
Listening to her sound.
Child, you’re here at last,
They’re looking at the marble dome and pebbled paths,
You’re lost under my shade,
Wondering if you wanted to be found.Aparajita

Human Faces

For men may come,
And men may go,
You,
A stamp of existence on time,
Your voice like a hum through space,
Goes on forever.
All the places that we’ve been to,
At different points of time,
Carry our footprints
Washed away by the sea.
I’ve stood here and looked at Tagore’s human face,
Trying to make sense out of the scribbling.
You,
Youve stood here too,
Wondering what the painter is trying to say.
I think he just wanted to stop faces in their tracks,
Through the day.

Aparajita

On a rainy day

Four safety pins

Four safety pins hold me in place,
Like three marshmallows.
Not one less not one more.
I fasten my dress into its designated space.
It doesn’t move,
And my fingers don’t automatically hover around my shoulders,
Pre occupied with bra straps playing peekaboo.
Girl, as I always say,
You do you.
I stand in front of a red sandstone sculpture of Maya- devouring its subtle beauty,
Tracing my sight across impeccable corners and ridges.
The female form in its glory,
Men come and go,
Steal a glance to bare busts unbeknownst to the women they accompany.
I stand unperturbed,
Watch them move hurriedly towards a tableaux
As if the female anatomy,
In its skin
Is nothing but obscene.

Aparajita