The First Rains of Monsoon

When the first rains of monsoons

Stir up the sand this year

I will smile, and remember you.

.

Do you smile now

When you see the plantain and jack fruit

You planted, shining under the blue grey sky?

.

You were a man of love.

I almost forgot how rare

Kindness is in this world,

How easily boys can break hearts,

When you smiled.

.

The land is dry now

A month later, the rains will arrive,

And I will be home.

A home without you.

 

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Remembering You

How many more afternoons spent perched on the corner of my bed

Surrounded by washed, wrinkled clothes that smell of soap and sun?

How many more baths with John Mayer’s voice for company, my hands

Scrubbing feverishly, hoping you’d dissolve with the foam that swims into the drain?

How many more nights where the snakes slither from my stomach to my chest

Till my words are choked out and a river is born out of my body?

.

I remember the smile the perfect teeth that spilled into my universe the happiness that your smile planted in me the happiness a shrub watered by your voice your voice which I loved more than any other’s which quietened my heart even when you were angry even when we fought just as long as I got to hear it your long thick arms that I thought would hold all the shaking parts of me without dropping a piece your face so big my palms couldn’t cover it yet I tried anyway to feel all of it while you laughed showing your perfect teeth and your voice resonated in my smiles my words my thoughts as your arms held me closer and tighter not breaking the pieces but marking them all

.

I remember I remember I remember I remember I remember

They say one day it’ll hurt a little less

When is one day?

Will it come as fast as the day

You gave away your arms your smile your eyes your voice

To someone new?

How much is a little less?

Enough for me to think of you with a smile

The same smile that you created, whose expanse

You first discovered?

First Impressions

Day#3 of IntrotoPoetry

Prompt: Friend

Form: Acrostic

I’ve used both the prompt and form, and yet, this poem was very very easy to write. 

 

A story reached me before I met her; our

Neighbour and her roommate told it to us

I laughed at the first impression she gave:

The image of her trying to break a rod

Had left her roommate stunned, to say the least.

And now, when I think of all the contradictions

She is made up of; I go back to this image of her –

Rod in one hand, knife in another, relentless

Ever busy to work, to fix things

Ever ready to love.

Sisters

Day#2 of IntrotoPoetry

Prompt: Face

Device: Alliteration

 I think I used alliteration a bit too much, but, whatever.

 

Giggling, getting in the way

Treading on my temples

Without worry. Never weary –

Tempted to tranquilize you every day.

.

Now when I think of beauty,

The two of you march into my mind

Comfortable in the confidence

I cannot cut you into two –

Not when you’re just in my head.

.

Your backs bent

And smiles solemn

Creating imaginary worlds

On papers pressed with love

.

Loquacious and laughing

Long car rides blasting the bass

Our singing never spectacular,

Amma thought otherwise.

.

In sleep you bordered on sweet

Deceptive angels entangling arms

The softness would fade when you woke

For now, silence sighed in the house.

.

When I think of beauty

The both of you come to mind

Sweet, smiling, snakelike.

The debate to love or kill

Will regularly ruin my mind

There’s no denying

Your faces show a beauty and maturity

I have forever failed to grasp.

 

Quiet

I used words carefully with you

My tongue, used to rapidly navigating terrains

Of other people’s minds, paused, relishing

The words that opened my soul

To you, before anyone else.

I danced in the beauty of the words that escaped my mouth

To let you in. I was jittery with excitement

To put them together in sentences meant

To reveal, without metaphor.

.

I forgot

You did not linger over words like I did,

They slid off your tongue without thought,

Weight, or consequence.

When my words turned from heavy dew

Drops sliding from the edge of a cool leaf

To the frenzied cries of a burning bush,

Your fingers twitching, brushed them off

They broke. Words are fragile, you see –

Did you know then, they would drive me to silence?

.

My soul may be more fragile then the words I chose to make you see

And see you cannot, now. Not anymore.

That space is marked by quiet.

Hush.

I cannot tell you of the multiple joys of solitude

The deliciousness of the loneliness that hugs the space

Between my blanket and my body.

There’s something about the anonymity of the rapid lines

That enter and exit the metro, and my insignificance

During the one hour ride of uninterrupted silence

That makes me feel happy in an indifferent crowd.

It’s strange I find happiness in this –

And you wouldn’t understand why I do.

.

Just know this:

When I decided to stop loving  you,

I realized, astonished absolutely,

That I could love myself.

I am still reeling under the impact

Of that revelation.

I am still drowning under the intensity of the love

That I’d reserved to you, and which now falls on me,

With an unapologetic tenderness.