The weaver’s message

The weaver Kabir sends one message:
The noose of death hangs over all.
Only Rama’s name can save you.
Say it now

Money has endless queues in  sun
For old man who has outlived life.

Holy city’s weaver cries out a name
Which is  only truth, full and final

Stand in  queue for money to burn
On holy river bank, ashes to ashes.



We were sleeping on clackety of train.
Death dance began pounding an earth.
We were just dreaming of our wedding.

An earth trembled as coaches reached
The crescendo of lust for one another.
Bones crunched or flesh , forget which.

(In the worst of train accidents the Patna-Indore express derailed near Kanpur killing more than 100 people and injuring several)

Angry turbans

Turbans are a color ,angry red .
Blood things below go hungry.
Angry turban also loves a pink .

Angry turbans are king’s blood
Which is red -dead like a stone,
Turning yellow vapor in stone.

After so many coils of turbans
Blood things crumble into air
And turn echoes on blue hills.

On return to Mumbai

The sea is calmly deep and afraid.
I see  Rukmini’s lying-in hospital

Along with some juice hair parlors.
The brokers rub rotund stomachs.

There, at junction, in a sea of cars
Stand the muddy-haired children

Who have a nasty habit of poking
Their outstretched grubby hands
Directly in the holes of your eyes.

The sister

This day we welcome the wealth goddess
Asking her favors, new clothes and gold
Husbands’ love, life and joy, job and kids.

We do not need brooms and bath room
Slippers with a bit of darkness skewered
On golden day of wealth and happiness.

A dark sister of the wealth goddess waits
On the staircase , with  bare neck devoid
Of the golden hues of wealth, loose hair

In full disarray, on a bareback of poverty.
Behind ,she stands sadly on a door frame
Gaily decked in painted flowers, brooding

On her heavy deprivation,  sibling rivalry.
The marigolds sing in a heavenly beauty.
Their dust flies in face in a soft fragrance.

The stories told make us rich, husbands
Long living, loving and leveraging wallets.
Let us slam door shut in the sister’s face.

(Lakshmi the goddess of wealth is welcome in the homes but her sister Jyesta who comes riding on an owl, represents ugliness and squalor and is turned away at the door)