A ten-rupee tarnished sun rains heat on Hauz Rani: the Afghan baker sweats over his hot stove; so far from home, this man– I think of Umar Khalid. Your shirt is robin blue– we buy a piece of bread.
Poems about the dark times.
A ten-rupee tarnished sun rains heat on Hauz Rani: the Afghan baker sweats over his hot stove; so far from home, this man– I think of Umar Khalid. Your shirt is robin blue– we buy a piece of bread.
At the Kashmiri Gate metro station, a child in a bright blue dress breaks free from her parents, runs laughing– into the cool, rushing air. And then what? She turns and returns– and then what? More laughing and growing– and…
-August 15, 2022 Some day soon, you’ll be watching a pair of tiny squirrels chase each other around a muddy park– or you’ll hear a young girl laugh as she rides an oversized cycle, hard through rain-soaked lanes– and for…
-January 1, 2022 Flocks of sheep drift down from the hills, like dry leaves blown free by a gust of winter wind– they block highways, refuse any compromise. In Lutyens’ Delhi, the Home Minister paces and shouts: Who’s in charge…
-Dyal Singh College Road, 9 P.M. Emerging from the metro, I met a swollen moon, I sipped a little smoke, tripped on the NIA. There was Hany Babu singing out a lecture— it was so soft and clear; it sounded…
The marching farmers fall, like wheat beneath a fast combine; young and old, they fall, stuck from behind, struck from behind! Watch the video: it is so clear, my friends, so clear; they’re marching peacefully: they do not fear, they…
you remember how often you misunderstand important things— like that time the drunken drain cleaner looked straight at you and said, Of course, I read poetry, or the night you saw the shopkeeper you’d argued with days before, wearing no…
Patriotic schools, large flags— prayers and promises; our CM’s studied Gandhiji; says Ram Rajya is his goal. Let’s study Ravidas, Kabir, Phule and Ambedkar; instead of ‘soft Hidutva’, friends, let’s learn to live together.
Last night, I dreamt my sister spoke up in the council, and when I rose to back her, I felt a gentle tremor. No matter if it’s UP, Kashmir or even Delhi, when your sibling stands, you must stand up…
You are rubbing my head as Kabul falls, and again when your friend’s sister calls; bad news, bad news, it comes in twos, hold on to the ones you love.
-Delhi, June 4 I lied when I told you the worst had passed; we’d be back on the streets in June— and we’d win; and I lied when I said I’d dreamed this wave would recede by the next full…
Outside the emergency department doors, a woman sobs as she clings to a trembling, straight-backed man. As we pass them, everything shakes: the smoky clouds, the hospital walls— bushes, flowers, trees— the footpath under our feet. These two are holding…
-Delhi, May 1, 2021 This morning, you said you’d dreamt of a room full of books and children; I only remember warm air, the sound of your breath and sirens.
-after Kabir Friends, I have seen astonishing sights: a great seer slain by invisible invaders; proud men cueing for buses, or liquor, to flee a failing capital; kings and princes kissing their master’s hidden hand while their subjects struggle to…
The moon is nearly full, the pyres are burning bright, the wind is clear and cool; let the air last through this night.
When I saw the video of pyres burning in an open field because, contrary to what one would expect based on official figures, the crematoriums were overflowing, I remembered that spring day, two years ago, when I saw you last,…
Do you struggle against the deepening dark because you read Marx or Ambedkar? Or was it the bus driver who whispered in your ear, or the teacher who failed you, or the neighbors who forced you to say, ‘Everything is…
You cradle the purring cat like your mother cradled you in the old photo you keep by your bed— you know the cat is not a child, and neither are you, but often in April, as the ceiling fan gently…
I’ve tried for years to write a perfect poem, an open window that lets in cool air— or a siren calling from the main road, reminding us to listen, reach and care. That might have worked before this darkness fell,…
(i) You don’t know me, but in the summer of 2019, you met my friend— she couldn’t stop talking about you: a man who knew how to listen, a leader who spent more time working out of the spotlight than…