Wednesday, January 29, 2014


Winter wails on the mane
of the trees, coiled for comfort.
I forget to breathe as well.
Inhale and exhale is more an exercise
that puffs pride into my lungs.

I dive under the weight of the wool

scraped from sheep, myself
not bearing the agony of
being stripped.

One such winter

I made five year plans
which shaped
the melting of windows
on a cold morning.

I saw festivals where

coconut grated with sweat
curdled curries.

I saw a husband who didn't see

my belly bulging,
his germs giving me

I saw a girl who ran away

and now lives in a city
that doesn't know her name.

Published in Cadaverine magazine here.

1 comment:

Geetika Kohli said...


...I saw a husband who didn't see...
Struck me at the right place.