Arbitrary Obsessions. Cities. History. Music. Feminism. Maami-isms. Patterns. Halwa. Identities. Free Verse. The Internets.
Are you not amazed by the lightness of your own words sometimes? How elastic were your breezes once? How wide were the fields they swept? Still resting on the theme of discovered and uncovered pieces from sometime back. They are not probably not old, in the sense of time, but they belong to another age. [...]
Posted on September 29th, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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A poem written in January 2002, that was leaping from the screen today. Still remember discussing Homer et al in class when the poem began to write itself. My ink drunk hands, miss the scratchy papers.. They lean over the terrace wall, their bellies squished against brick, and three layers of thin lime. From one [...]
Posted on September 28th, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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indra… king of gods, god of lightening, he who rides a white elephant . somehow the image was stark, zeus and indira being the same person .. two personalities of a schizo. hurricane lamp. i love petromax and kerosense lamps. godot i am tired of waiting for. rather wait for an extinct bird than a [...]
Posted on September 28th, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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Rediscovering the element of Jihaad within the self. This silent war against the world, within the self. In a state of animation, and the promise of suspension. All melting like multiple layers on a pizza in the oven. Bake my emotions. Tonight. The translation is inadequate. Urdu cannot really be translated. It can be possibly [...]
Posted on September 22nd, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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Insomnia – in-’säm-nE-& ; noun; Latin, from insomnis sleepless; prolonged and usually abnormal inability to obtain adequate sleep. Ennui – “än-’wE ; noun; French, from Old French enui annoyance, from enuier to annoy ; a feeling of weariness and dissatisfaction. Nostalgia – nä-’stal-j&, n& noun ; New Latin, from Greek nostos return home + New [...]
Posted on September 21st, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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The insomnia has peaked. The shit has hit the cieling, coloured it and draped the fan.
Posted on September 17th, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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An attempt at breathing was made for the morning The first three minutes, blinded by yesterday’s salt water life seemed to be buoyant only to sink
Posted on September 16th, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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