Friday, February 09, 2007

some poems

at war with vacuum

when she died,
she looked indifferent.
yes, i remeber she wanted to
and so much.

now that where she used to sit
how she used to sit
when she used to sit
is empty.

the no one who might call

my phone was silent
the whole of yesterday
or even may be
before that.

finally i decided on
the sad note of violin to play
for the no one who might call
to litsen.


she was a scholar
the only woman amoung seven listed
she questioned
her husband, a man
in presence of thousands
and so long ago

but how do i care..
i need to name myself again
i need it of my own.

when you arent here

the memories flood,
i've been mad
i've been wild
i've been in love
and you've been beautiful
my sweet little boy.

in your presence,
you remind me
of that uncommon bitterness.


arathy said...

sree, my sree leads me to you...
to these lines etched on water and wind....
i watch you unfold from the words that u uttered..
i watch you emerge in new light...
i turn around to see if i can find you again...

tabassum said...

da, its my arathy not our (sree's)arathy...

gargi said...

thank u arathy!

arathy said...

and the thanks received with much ado about nothing..for nothing..but the question popped up for what the gratitude?
the fcat of being alive in the same the beyond of reach..when rainbows are the thoughts that forms the bridge...and my sree says u are like her which makes u aprochable/sahikkable..if its ok by u...

gargi said...


madness rules!

gratitude. huge word, no?
simply happy that u read what i wrote..
and yes, would like u to read more..
and let me read more of what you've written..

the string of eccentricity that connects :)

gargi said...

hey arathy, why wont you enable your profile viewing?