Dying Husband, to Loving Wife

Did they break your bangles?
Did they say, now hide your angles?

My Jalapeno

Now it feels the mist is clear
And you, who were in my arms...

Gypsy Magic

“I have a new shirt,” said the gypsy. She drew me closer, within...

Chairs Sat in a Line

And so, Chairs sat in a line that went around Into another line and came back...

If You Let Yourself Go Fat

If you let yourself go fat, and a bit of you begins to be amused by the...


My Jalapeno

Now it feels the mist is clear
And you, who were in my arms...

Gypsy Magic

“I have a new shirt,” said the gypsy. She drew me closer, within reach of her pair of sure hands “White with Green accents in the collar and cuffs,” she smiled. I saw only her neck, her ear and...

Chairs Sat in a Line

And so, Chairs sat in a line that went around Into another line and came back around With us in them, in the conference room. I sideways to you, but half my heart, (Was it left ventricle, or the right one?) Already...

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Poems, when crushed by B.

When you are upset

See see see, I am here, right here you see First you turned me on Turned me like a marble From words of garble Round and round In your fingers Round and round In your head Only a first draft You said, Wait till the...

Talking self (that keeps talking)

When you can’t get even a measly word of reply out of her, no matter how you try, keep this in mind. REASON: When you hear the morning sparrow chirp, Remember it is she, making vows never to talk to you. LONGING:...


You said it’s a miracle we met. I said I felt the same way. I said I was looking for you. I said I want to be your friend. Then there was a crash and a burn. I am still looking for reasons. Still counting the...

To B: When you go home

It is four in the morning. Endless hours of flying, Brought me from sunshine to sunshine. Brain on autopilot. Disconnected. Still. Experiencing, The newness of the old. Opened the door. House woke up to the sound, As if...

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Poems, while thinking of S.

Women in Love

Some women got together and came up to me as I lay on the ground. In our days we caged our hearts in each other, Now one said, “What a strange man he was,” and nodded some others. Spiteful ones, they turned...

My Man’s Cycle

In May I began my man’s cycle Fell into a world Where everything was you and everything was in you My clarity of purpose was sharp My respect for your power was firm My patience for your love was eternal Now...

This is death. Don’t Waste it.

Why talk of the unknowability of death? Nonsense. Let me tell you what death is. She will never think of you. Not out of spite, Nor because she doesn’t want to. While your body is cremated You let your heart burn...

Only That

When it comes to a woman
You are only what she accords you
Framed in her silence,
Only that.
And if you are offended by this
Then you are not madly in crush with her
Fix this first.

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On Translations

Our six year-old

“Did you notice?” You said once. “How I don’t address you by name?” “Did you wonder why?” Then we smiled At each other … We then leaned Toward each other “Did you...

Macrolove – N

First cold hands, then warm you Soon sheets of macrolove Enveloped me and you Like a front that’s come in “You silly,” you said “It doesn’t die,” you said And now, fat raindrops Fall...

On the Shores of My Grave

A wave of somethings appeared out of nowhere Thoughts, recollections and some debris Some, questioning if my memory is true Others, smiling with kindness at me— but still unhappy at my worries That I didn’t create...

23 and You and Me

One look, one word
And I died everyday
I didn’t kiss you
Now, after 23 years
I still live
For one word, for one look
And for one kiss
To encode life
Into my 23 pairs

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With Amma

On "All Things Unforgiven"

Road to Brooklyn Book Festival

Sometime in the middle of 1978. Old city of Hyderabad burned with Hindus and Muslims killing each other, and the police killing everyone. Early May 2003. “Characters should behave unaware of the future that lay ahead of...

Sources Of Inspiration

Going through my notes, it is clear that I am inspired significantly by literary criticism. George Steiner, Richard Blackmur (R.P. Blackmur), John Bayley, Edward Wasiolek, R.F. Christian, Richard Gustafson, Gary Saul...

“It Is The Story Of …”

July 8th, 2003 It is not a story of characters where it is clear immediately who is in the wrong, with dark evil intentions and good intentions. No. It is the story of helplessness in the face of one’s own...

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... and the rest

Saaranga English

After an intense 2-month work including a complete front-end overhaul, Saaranga Magazine is now relaunched, with a new English section. Magazine here, and my article, How will they receive me, for the inaugural edition.

p80 “Oliver Twist”

He wandered over them again. He had called them into view, and it was not easy to replace the shroud that had so long concealed them. There were the faces of friends and foes, and of many that had been almost strangers...

Mundane Words

When people gather together, the first thing they do is to tell each other the purpose of why they are there. They begin by reciting their purpose, and the very reasons of being there. This exchange somehow moves the...