A Woman Awaiting Child - Birth
Wonder of creation
Gift-wrapped
A pink ribbon
Around the thread-bare belly…
The little girl stood
In wonder and awe
Of the conical home
Of ethereal grandeur
Of divine architecture
Inimitable
Secure
Warm
S ustenance
Found nowhere else
On earth or in heaven
I once lived there
I once housed you there,
My little one, she whispered
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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The Walls
Everyone around me
Looked equally strange
Some laughed
Some cried
Some remained indifferent
To me everyone
Is the same—
Strangers! .
Each built around me
A wall of one’s choice
Love indifference shame
I grew up
I sat
I slept
I played
I moved
All within those walls
Destiny went on
Gnawing at me
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Amnesia within amnesia
Of the world left behind
Of people lived with
In a state of amnesia
Does one descend
All that one is aware of
Is the looming loneliness
Contracting and expanding
Not knowing the reason why
For in a state of amnesia
Does one descend
Call it karma
Call it a baggage
The back-pack stuffed
Not knowing what it contains
For in a state of amnesia
Does one descend
Amnesia within amnesia
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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A Poem of Raindrops and You!
On this sweltering afternoon
When you knocked at my door
Didn't I accost you
And demand of you,
'Have you brought any rain? '
As if you were the rain maker
But there're many instances
When in your arms,
Me and my precincts smelt of rain
How I regaled in the raindrops
Clinging to my skin, reflecting you!
'Hey, don't wipe them away! '
I told you on those occasions
With the hope of harvesting them
On a sapping afternoon as this.
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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From the biography of an unknown woman: xxxvi
She stood on desolate shores
...And looked up
The darkness of the sky
Appeared as if filtered through
The sieve of glow-worm-stars
And the hill yonder looked
A mammoth heap of darkness
She tried to trace their names
He wrote on the smooth
Sea-washed damp sands...
'How everything in life seems
As if a moment ago,
My life is a tale written on water...! '
And she traced her way
Through the coal-dark sands...
29aug2010
11.11hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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From The Biography Of An Unknown Woman: Xix
'ma, what's a b.o.u.n.d.a.r.y? '
her little girl asked her one day
pushing her hair off her baby forehead
eyes glued to the geography book
'that's lines people draw for themselves, '
she replied busy fixing her dinner
'but how will i see them, ma? '
'no, you can never see them, you see
they're never fixed
they disappear in a blink
and get drawn in a blink too...'
she replied looking beyond
the boundary of her window
11may2010
08.00hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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My dreams my hopes
Dreams and hopes
Get woven as an alluring
Multicolored web
Let me tell you,
Sometimes they’re
Embroidered as
Leaves buds and flowers
On the fabric
Most times our feet get caught
In that enthralling web
…but do you know
That at the end of the show
It’s just one dream
It’s just one hope
That takes reins of
A whole life...
And what’s the meaning of
This dream-like-life
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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From the biography of an unknown woman: XL
Looking out through the window
She saw a sky of melancholy
In shades of ink-blue and black
In the ticking of the clock on the wall
She heard the loud and clear hollowness
Filling the empty room
Some stray memories sweet and bitter
Simply struggled like a flickering candle
Placed on the window sill
In the distant night is heard
Painful whining of dogs
As she struggled to close
The window against the blowing wind
13sep2010
14.14hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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A Poem On A Lonely Monsoon Night
Each dropp of rain
Oozing joy unbound
Contains within itself
The seed, the sapling
Followed by flowers
Whispering petals
Gushing waters
Paper boats
And damp clothes
Time for monsoon fun
If you wake up with drizzle
On your face
Cool breeze tickling
Through the pores
Verging on summer's finale
And smiling monsoon
July is a strange month
Of expectation
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Insomnia
even the ticking of clock
is hardly audible
in that rumbling that
filled the sleepless night
there aren't any shadows
or ghosts let loose
except the beat of heart
and the breath beside
it's a silence difficult to swallow
i sit like a monument
the outline of body
absorbed by the darkness
...and then
i hear the crows ca...ca...ing
and then
i hear prayers
from the distant mosque
in spite of closed
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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