Beyond Recognition
no my friend
no, you can't recognize me
any more at this moment
burnt in the firmament of
my unadulterated desire for you
i'm now reduced to
a whiff of thin vapour
quickly carried away by the wind
and in no time absorbed by ether
no friend, no
you can't recognize me
any more at this moment
i'm now a tomb with all
love and hurt accrued
buried deep within with
no epitaph inscribed
no my friend
no, you can't recognize me
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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A Poem That Came Alive
Drenched in rain
You came knocking
At my closed door
I saw your face
Gleaming with raindrops
And your unique smile
You pushed away the raindrops
Off your forehead
And looked at me
In a boyish glee.
Where have you been,
I said feigning anger
Can't you see,
I came back twice alive
Just for you,
You said.
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Monsoon Musings
…and on this
cool cloudy monsoon morning
as you strolled at a distant
horizon along the
village bunds and canals
wandered across the
native soil preparing
itself for the next sowing
i opened the door to
a light-hearted wind that veiled me
from the rest of the world
it cast an alluring net
dabbed in the perfume of late
summer flowers soaked in the
damp rain-soaked earth
the endless tidings the waves
of wind whispered
tickled me enough
on the black sky
a lightning that flashed
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Tryst With Winds
i stood still in the southwest balcony
savouring the washed landscape
after a brisk monsoon shower
for sometime when the heat
emnating from my body
made me restive
i thought it's the day's heat
that the rain threw up hitting
hard on my sensitive nerves
o, no!
the unsettling heat turned
me into a child playing
with fire in sheer boredom
after returning from school...
from nowhere winds
began to blow and
i was forced abandon the play
lest winds and fire conspire
whispering winds
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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As the full-moon moves...
1…2…3…
I count my fingers and toes
The final number exceeds…
Tell me, how do I count
Twenty five with my
Ten fingers and ten toes?
A problem since childhood
Ever since my tryst
With math had begun
And in the skein of numbers
In the maze of time and distance
That entrapped five scores and one
Full-moons, the heart too gets trapped
As is its habit
The moon waxed and waned
All the while and will continue
Its endless scheme somewhere
With someone else on earth
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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From random pages
For once the eager lover
Affected to offer his best
And lo, there he is…
Crushed under shame!
The teenager ran
With the moving bus
To show her his 'worth'
There he is in a pool!
The young son blushed
When the father tried to know
The father smiled
The girl left the town!
I saw real fear in the eyes
Of a woman pregnant
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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To the Other Half
On a September morning
I open the door to a blazing sun
Humid and scorched
I blink at the sun and my hormones
Which give an awkward shape and gait
To the body hanging on
A cliff of desire—
The desire trapped in the body contours—
In that blink I take a quick look
At the (un) written dictums of
Patience, tolerance, virtue
And all that’s associated
With me, the other half
All to survive and serve
A man’s world?
No, no, no!
Screamed my insides…
All needed to understand
And come to terms with
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Cataclysm
Water closed me in from behind
Water slowly spread to
All directions I moved
No, I was not alone
People thronged from all sides
Panic writ large upon the faces
I spotted some familiar
Though they seem not to care for me
The sky threw up
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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In Gratitude To My Destiny
had always toyed with
this idea we call destiny
is it some pre-programmed stuff?
is it scripted by me?
i could never decide
whenever i felt myself
an agent of some force
i became a mere toy
in the hands of destiny that
turned me into a spectator and
whenever the agent took back seat
i became the proud architect
of my destiny struttering around in glory
but
...still at times
when i no longer had
the nerve to take
just another wink
i wondered what it would be
if you were with me
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Once Again In The Southwest Balcony
what connects me to you
and this southwest balcony?
it's the same balcony
it's the same sky
and the chair too is the same...
you know, this late summer evening
the lightly-cast sky over the balcony
moved to descend on me sitting
as usual insulated in the accustomed chair
that typical cool early summer evening breeze
came swinging in fits only after
caressing the capricious clouds
it brushed past my forlorn cheeks
setting ablaze the memories i tightly
gift-wrapped and kept securely
in a tiny wicker-basket in my heart
the same passing cloud this time
released trillion needles of rain drops
even on my eye lids making it difficult for me
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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