GOSH...Another Elegy!
They came
From the vast desert
To the shores of an expansive sea
G
O
S
H!
Giridhar
Om
Shivam…
I can’t understand anything
Not a single word
I’m from a village!
That’s Giridhar’s declaration
At the first encounter
The cynosure of his village
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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But Let The Show Go At Its Pace!
each time the communication
gets snapped abruptly with
a nagging beep at other end
my stomach gets knotted
the life infused into me by
your fingers is slipping through
my fingers for long is all i know
can we hold water in our palms?
when i unwittingly brush my hand
against my neck i still feel
your breath infusing
passion into my veins…
but how foolish to expect life to remain static?
no explanations needed or be given
life has this uncanny ability to slip out
like a hydrogen balloon from a child’s hands
nothing comes for asking
nothing goes for asking
either closeness
or the torment of neglect
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Dry Eyes
three continuous days
of dilating the pupils
and closure of eyes
strange...pronounced
the assistant, how long
do your pupils take to dilate
finally considering the half dilation
after more than the usual time
the doctor summons with a smile
focuses concentrated flash light
wonders why the vision suddenly gets blurred
preceding blinding flashes of light
which to the neurologist was
a problen that needed prolonged medication
which when taken for five months
threw up the zombie in me
fear gripping every move
phobia to go about even normal activities
day two off to another specialist
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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From Her Heart
From her heart
Where’s he?
He slept by me last night
By morning he disappeared!
They say he slipped away
Stealthily in the silence of night
Body and brain
Became numb seeing
The bed emptied forever
Where’s he?
I pleaded
The stars, the sky
They all looked away!
Where lies my future?
In the tiny hands?
In the empty corridors of the palace?
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Where am I?
It was a pathetic evening
Back from a busy day
In a cold cubicle of white spreads
I settle under a white quilt
Pale and hungry...
If i wanted to break from
My aloneness, i just needed
to make a call...
'hello, reception, ' pronounced
A trained voice...
I cradle the phone
I didn't want to hear groomed voices
They're so alike and lifeless
Enough to augment the aloneness
But why the hell should i...?
The pathos of the evening
Creaked in my joints
The pair of footwear in a lonesome corner
waited for my touch...
Out in a city of clamour
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Between the Two
It would all begin
In a state of innocence
He would draw a circle
Around her feet
And she would skip hop
And play merry within
An unwitting statement
From her would amplify
His heart-beat
And a side-ward glance
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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A Poem Called A lump In My Throat
f only you're searching for
Kindness in this gruesome world
Ask this lump in my throat
Didn't you experience it
Moving from the depths of your belly
Navigating its way through the heart
To your vocal chords, blocking them
From speech when you looked at
A lonesome child covered in a coat of dust
And looking longingly at
The balloon seller holding a bunch of colours?
Haven't you felt it when you lost yourself
At the sight of two lovers engrossed in
Each other's company by the sea-shore?
Hey, you must have felt it
When you talked to the one close to your heart
Only to realize that you haven't talked
What you intended, overwhelmed as you're by
His/her voice and his/her presence?
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Please Tell Me, If You Ever Know...
who robbed us of the days
we laughed with childlike mirth?
who robbed us of the days
when vibrations flowed between us
like milk and curds in their
purest form that little krishna
filled his tummy with?
who robbed us of the days
we danced and sang on unknown
river banks competing against
wind water and amusing little ripples
set in those crystalline waters?
who robbed us of the days
we built any number of castles
by the mighty seas and swayed
to the rhythm of the waves?
who robbed us of
the air that giggled in glee?
who robbed us of
the days of milky moonlight?
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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In the Presence of an Avadhut
No, he didn't utter a word
Raised his hand in salutation
To return mine!
No, I didn't have any inclination
Either to utter a word
Or entertain a thought
Thought had been suspended
The silence that followed
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Voyage on the Dark Seas
I’ve seen all
I’ve heard all
I’ve absorbed all
Routine dawns fading into
Ruthless dusks into
Ravaging nights…
Haven’t I heard
Nights wailing like
An abandoned infant
At the street end?
Haven’t I felt
The leprous skin
Of the night—
Ugly and haunting?
Haven’t I heard
The palpitating nights
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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