A Song 101

October notes:
a beaming, blue morning glory,
from below plastic waste;
a hoopoe flies over
Assissi grounds,
lands on a wall,
watching football,
before filing media reports;
fantail chips
on Ayappa Marg;
a red star glory
on the fence;
an ashy grey warbler
looks around
from a leaf-crowded bush;
no takers;
speeding walkers
on Enfields and Mercs,
spit,
scream. 

Portia trees

Aji did not like the walk suggestion to St. Francis d'Assissi play ground to watch Shreya football practice. Ajoba toffeed the idea with a auto ride to the ground for a walk. Aji was not for it but went along; both took an auto dropped off at IC Church and stepped on dewed grass, football spikes and boot studs, yesterday's marks of a football game.  Aji thought of smiling and then smiled: 'Lets walk'. Ajoba was waiting for the walk. Shreya did not turn up; nor her friends; nor her coach; the ground in quiet they walked; the teak plants, which Ajoba last year felt and appreciated, today hovered over him to look up and hug. After a round, Aji rested as Ajoba turned for a second round. Old mates said Hullos with some inquiring of health as Ajoba was last spotted before the monsoons. Today, a quiet home as Aji and Ajoba sat, looked around; mornings were not for words. A few school kids in colours were practicing trick moves with a soft football, but not playing a full match; free kicks, back flips ... their parents were not there to cheer; well Ajoba was the spectator still dreaming of a day when India will win an Olympic Gold or World Cup. He was on the look out for Portia trees; he had seen them in IC Colony. Thespesia populnea (Paras bhendi in Marathi); seems to be an Indian, says Wikipedia. On morning walks has counted two Portia trees on Link Road and IC Colony and they still are uncut. Will they be around as Link Road is being dug up by a metro project -- some say a monorail. Link Road will then not be in five or 10 years. Yet the Portia trees bug Ajoba; maybe because of a re-reading of One Part Woman by Perumal Murugan. Pulled out a copy from his pant pocket and walked the first four pages on Portia trees. 'The portia tree was dense with foliage. If you looked closely, you could see the yellow trumpet-like flowers with their flared mouths, and then drooping, fading red ones with their inviting smiles. Portia flowers always grow more beautiful as they fade.......For instance, he could now see that they had trimmed a branch that had outgrown the yard and started reaching into the house. It looked like a deformed body part. They must have done it to get some sun to dry something. But he stood looking at the tree's wound for a while....'  And then Aji was on those lines when two hands snatched them from Perumal and portia trees. Shreya in football attire with friends troubling a football and football coach .....

A Song 100

At the window,
mangroves
in sun-taped fog,
tagged an old man
welled in an arm-chair
with a walking stick;
stepped out of the window,
over hills,
with scribbles in jibba pockets
for Kabir, Tuka and Kolatkar
approvals;
mid-walk,
winds snapped,
to windlands
scribbles flew,
old man pushed out of
geography, history ....
a loafer beyond skies
having tea with.....
someone, something .....
none knows. 

A Song 99

Walked into a
ISO certified temple.
Certified priests,
blessed.
Certified safe. 

A Song 98

Chaurasia
a fragrance of varnish,
walked in
for facials to
Aji, Ajoba armchairs,
double doors;
an absent face in
a pant and a shirt
stained Asian Paint colours;
Chaurasia
scraped and scraped and scraped,
varnished, varnished, varnished
with cloth balls;
a pleasant rub of five fingers
up and down,
in style,
at ease;
not a drip on the floor.
Chaurasia stammered,
Ajoba half-heard,
in winsome smiles
Aji took down
their question, answer session;
Chaurasia lives alone
in a khatiya in Rawalpada slums;
wife,
a four-year old daughter
in a Gorakhpur village;
'bahut yaad atha hai,'
he titters.
Earns Rs.800 per day
if on contract.
Two days,
Chaurasia left
home,
an unsigned,
art piece.   

A Song 97

Loss of an absence
absence of a loss...
malls, food sites
hawk
fresh stocks
of Deepavali ferral...
chakli,
chewda,
sankarpali,
laddoo,
karanji,
sev,
Sivakasi crackers;
for pelf, profit;
dreams out of stock;
no buyers, say they;
hence, no sellers;
poets shifty,
alter scales,
staring at night skies;
crowds at airport
with foreign
passports,
Deepavali feral,
in transit
to foreign certainties;
dumping Ajis and Ajobas,
Kabir and Tuka,
Meera and Janabhai.
in retirement homes ...
Loss of an absence
absence of a loss....

A Song 96

On Twitter..

A dead man
desires a selfie
with Yama.