Among Top 100 Humour Blogs on the Net
Among Top 5 in India
Novelist, cartoonist, poet, social activist, development banker, documentary filmmaker,reader of books and realities,
ponderer of questions milling around. Still curious, somehow.
Category Archives: poetry
HYMN I have come down from my hermitage; I have a job, a family, friends. I don’t have any more that swift accurate eye for naming things, names that parted the world. Now I grope carefully, edge to the fringes … Continue reading
Whales This world ended the first time when your school friend left town, leaving you bereft, shocked that the universe was flawed. Such things happened many times later, though you tried, held the world close. Too many times. Yes, Rukmani, … Continue reading
Ending Up It is true: all bits were heedless, one time things; a catching up at the end, some sort of a reckoning, was never on the cards. What washes up is: children`s families, newspapers, TV, books, etc or … Continue reading
Mumbai, 2014 Least expected, it comes as a surprise, the sight from high above; of low green hills around shining small lakes, many arms silver blue of the sea, housing filling up the shorelines, ships moving afar and picturesque. Its … Continue reading
Families Deploying illusions of refuge families use up all energy and initiative, fuck up a world of possibilities; make civilizations meager, and fragile.
A Bombay Morning Deep months Of Monsoons in Bombay. Raining since morning; Grey lowering sky, grey inward sea, mists, and a blurred city. I sit watching a tall building under construction, indifferent, proud under the pelting rain. … Continue reading
New Buildings of Bombay Many new buildings in the city have red lights blinking on top in the night : to warn low-flying aircraft, or they think they are too high.
Haze in the sky Ever since I can remember there used to be a hill outside the town actually made of municipal garbage, rejected or lost things. One saw it as the horizon, always smouldering, smoke curling in … Continue reading
Springtime, ageing First as a hint that it is not final, the abiding sense of ending at a sudden narrow end — like a beast cornered, a hint you disbelieve fearing yet another falsehood, the long winter … Continue reading