WHO WE ARE

Strutting about—

our pompous ways!

Fussing over spilt milk;

disdain for the inferior;

dusting invisible specks

off of ourselves.

We're the See-Alls 

and the Know-Alls.

After all,

didn’t the mob declare us

Fashion Beyond Fashion?

Icons in our own rights we are!

That’s what makes it so strange

that when the Creator arrives

we fade away—

mere Puppets On Strings,

playing our assigned roles after all…

 

VERY GOOD OMENS

First day at work (yey!)

Switched off alarm and overslept (habit!)

Charger! Charger! (not under the sofa - I looked)

Where are my slippers??

It's a bad-hair day (frizzz!!)

The lining of my handbag caught the zip (why - must - it - do -that??)

Breakfast, some measly dry bread en route (water, please!)

I never calculated the traffic jam (damn!)

Been there for the interview, but the streets all look alike (ya, ya, this one. no, no, that one)

One round...two round (in confused silence)

Finally!! (i passed this building - twice)

Just half hour late!

"I'm sorry! Am I late?" (embarrassed smile :)

CHERRY BLOSSOM

For a moment,

Let me step out of my mask

and intellectual cap

and allow

those insecurities

and vulnerabilities

to show in my eyes.

For once

let me be myself -

a child-woman

as tender

as a petal

of cherry blossom.

made for love

before

I don my mask

and intellectual cap

and brace myself

to face the world.

DEATH

The hour was now
The time was day
Your thoughts eternity
And Death -
Just a moment
Leaving no time for
Philosophies
Prayers
Goodbyes

The players move on...
For them
The hour is still now
The time is still day
Their thoughts eternity.

A drop evaporated the ocean
Some ripples, and then none
Above
A cloud floats by.

CAN JESUS UNDERSTAND?

Can Jesus understand

that, as a child

the scarf wouldn’t stay on my head

no matter how tight my mom tied it

around my chin?

no more than the pullo of my sari does now

as I frantically pull it to cover my head

in keeping with the church’s orders

in keeping with the other staid women

I see around me.

As I take my communion

and filled with the Lord’s

blood and body,

I still wish that the scarf

would behave itself.

Do I lack feminity?

or am I not Christian enough

that sandwiched between keeping

my scarf on

and listening to the sermon

I miss the whole point of worship

And the key to the doors of Heaven?