that boy

we don’t
know each
other well

yet you
told me
your story

of expectations
and broken

wrong timings
and unfulfilled

i only
hope time
will tell

another story
of your
undying love 😉

a glimpse of something wondrous

Occasionally, when I go fishing, I sit on the bank,
or wade into the water,
hoping to catch a glimpse of something wondrous.

What does it take, I think, to have faith in things beyond the ordinary?
Age? Childlike wonder?
Is it right to cling so fiercely to the world?

As they absorb my solitude, the silence of the hills
and the drifting indifference of the clouds,
I think of disappearances,
the ones that surprise us and those that don’t.

At first, I am steeped in sadness.
Then I notice how the air fills with cicadas,
the trees cast their trembling shadows on the water,
the reeds bow in steady reverence.

I realize that no one is  truly ever gone.
All voices are heard in a river’s murmuring.’

Janice Pariat in Boats on Land

we are all neighbours

On the screen, a woman is talking:
‘It’s the same as before as far as neighbours are concerned.’
In the background there is a faint sound of shells exploding.
The woman is a Bosnian Muslim in a village
about two hours’ drive from Sarajevo
where the shells are falling.

It is early 1993 and the village has a mixed population
of two-thirds Muslims and one third Catholics.

An old Muslim lady visits her best friend,
a Catholic. ‘Whatever happens’, she says,
‘we’ll drink coffee together.’

-scene from We Are All Neighbours

sea shell on my table

he did
not know
me when
he picked
up the
sea shell
in the
shores of
karachi, put
in his 
pocket and
walked away

only to
meet me
in shillong
and hand
me the
shell as
it sits
on my
chaotic table
least bothered,
radiating the 
ocean charm