Managed to dig this out. Wrote this sometime in August 2002. In Bombay. And feeling most un-poetic. The greyness of the city, after the initial overwhelming lash of rains, seemed to follow me everywhere. Water seemed to be gushing from pages, music and the wooden doors. Inertia ruled high, and the absolute agony of colourlessness did me in. It took me some time, to fall for Bombay. On campus, we had an abnormaly large number of crows. And they shit all the time. And worse, they aim and shit. They wait for you to walk underneath a particular point, and rain shit. And it’s got this disgusting Chemistry Lab reminding smell.
:)
this city inspires no poetry,
grey skies and streets
the same
incoherent expanse stares
back at me,
love induces a sad yearning
untouched by words.and while bird shit keeps
raining down on tarmac streets
and cats behave like dogs
love sits alone on
parapets and walls, keeping
lovelorn lizards company.sort of soft is the palm
of love’s hand
pressed upon wet grey gravel
impressions slowly make way
into the flesh,
and yearning fills the toes
of love
but this city.. inspires no
poetry.
