Unintended

First, the unexpected death.
Then, the blasts.

Suddenly, I am more alive to the mortality of those I know & love.
And hence, the white flag.

Perhaps, I regret it already.

Words, silly words
reckless
sometimes ridiculous
casting their spell of inevitability
when all I desire
is a certain ambiguity.

The Peach Orb

An ode to our trip to Ranganathittu - composed by Elina. Editors scouting for the next Sylvia Plath may please contact her directly.

The waterfall belonged to Gulliver’s Lilliput Land
And yet inspired a lot of freakishly frolicking folks
Who looked beyond the torn black slippers?
Bobbing along the blue green current and
The catch of the chilly marinated day!
The coracles weaved themselves
amongst the slight waves of the man made dam
And the memories of kingfisher colored children
laughing into the peach orb of a vanilla sky.

In the winding roads of an unborn morning
We had set out to meet a few birds and
And a scarcely traveled path of kindred time
And we discovered out of bounds marshes,
Amongst bound bamboo growth in definite gardens
Foxes and lions of Indian Politics, an insecure Indica
And a foreign cuisine for our north of the Vindhya tongue
And some light which fell through the
Canopy of trees and kissed our foreheads as we literally
Cooled our heels by a brook bordered by fish scales and
Love Ballads which celebrated the genre of gullible childhood.

And it is all a celebration of the times we live
Saluted by Mona Lisa smile on dark glasses
A discovery of ‘What The Point’ amidst surreal banality
And this poem to us.