Press Brakes of a Naked Fan

A shirt and a naked fan

 

A cage-less fan
that could cut the sound of random words

I wanted to put it in between us
whenever we had conversations on
the probability of elongated longing
or incomplete transitions

But a lot of times
it just waved the wetness away

Signed
A (dot)

 

Tagged , , , , , ,

First sentence of my Debut Untitled Novel

The cheap brothels, the rich rag-pickers, the intellectual lunatics, the clean-nosed bankers, the poison-spewing journalists, the intrusive housewives, the headless kings of third grade casinos, the skinny spine-less musicians, the weird beard artists, the innocent tit-suckers, the stubborn insurance executives, the wasted junkies of kashmere gate, the dismantled car-mechanics of old-delhi, the money-minded illiterate school teachers, the over-zealous con-men, the cute-faced scamsters, the off-springs of ambitious politicians, the fake historians of non-existing destroyed history, the evil NGO workers, the teenage nymphets of khan market, the mad readers of trash literature, the soggy newspaper columnists, the grounded acrobats, the enthusiasts of love, the naive fitness instructors, the juicy models from fashion streets, the psychopath poets, the uninhabited security guards… I wanted to kill them all.

 

Signed.

A(dot) 

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

A lost street of Paharganj, NewDelhi

Paharganj, Delhi

I took another step
and I lost myself in a forgotten street

where walls were smeared with rusted junk and murals of cobwebs

Ahead of me was blind voices of insects
and behind me
nothing.

Signed.
A(dot)

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

She sniffed my collar bones/Upon further investigation

(Disclaimer: Two poets..over a cup of coffee..threw words at each other..some squinting it took..result..Two freshly baked poems)
(Words given to make a poem:
Cake, brown, clink, bloat, pounding, parade, investigation, bloody, nipple, itch, social, carpet, hugs, cheeky, fog, albumin, hood)

 

—–Upon further investigation—–

There was a clue found
hidden deep within
the smudgy gooey brown cake
recently devoured at a social gathering
where hugs and wine flowed in rivers of giggles
until a cheeky man revealed
from under his fashion street hood
a horrendous sight
an albuminy
bloaty, itchy
ghastly
nipple
pounding with pulses of pleasure
after which the revelers disappeared in to the fog
the kind that descends like a cloak of embarrassment
the rest, was brushed under the carpet
of course it was a great success.
Signed.
Textbubble

 

 

—–She sniffed my collar bones—–

and investigated my flimsy hug
she sensed an itch stitched on my albumin-chest
and our jaws clinked when she tried to
brush the dust off my nose

I swallowed a breath and puked
some dozens of fog-webs

she offered me a piece of
her nipple-shaped cake

she was nice enough to pound
for me
on her brown carpet
but I would have preferred a parapet

A social gesture that was
made her carpet bloat a little
and a parade of red ants
got dismantled & disheartened

my cheeky faith
lost its faith in womanhood that night

 

Signed

A (dot)

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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