The Ear Pull

Then she pulled my left ear,
mother...
The chiding,
it is, I know,​

for leaving you,
for hiding in their city.

The bloodletting
reminds me of home,
of belonging,
of what I’ve grown up to be​,
a slave to the month
—telephone bills and 96 pages.

Blurry Love

Can’t wipe it clean,

my vision,

to fathom the girth of

the pillars,

the depth in 

those bleary eyes

that watch over me;

I guard ’em too.

But they look distant,

I strain my neck, I can’t see...

The morning mist

smudges my roots

as I fight lethargy,

and a stiff ego,

to look back and capture

the trio shimmer in

the golden yellow

wash of Sodium.

Much before the gold

showered by the sun 

reach a shopaholic town,

it’s Onam.

I leave in haste n waste,

as the blurred 

image of my genes

remind me of karma,

of honesty,

of the simple beauty in love.