Liberation

Pinched between white teeth, scarlet lips bleed
Tucked behind ears, jasmine strands sweat
Stacked on unwaxed wrists, bangles break
Lying on flat chest, the mangalsutra looks for breasts

Eyes of the dressing table mirror bore deep into the saree
Through diaphanous red layers and impenetrable skin
For a farewell to the heart caged inside
Choked with the Holy fire's tongue

Between first night and new dawn, time oscillates
Being together is a bigger betrayal, the heart validates
Ears grow numb to sneers and mind turns limp to critics
Broken chords of voice finally cry aloud desires with gay

As a newly wed bride enters the room in golden glow
Risen from a man's body
The bride in red frees them off their nupital vow

(c) Akhila Rajesh
6-sep-2020

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On The Cobblestone Streets

On the cobbled stones of Colaba streets
I've lost many a hearts as these
Some trampled, some kicked
And yet some stuck between cobbles' teeth
Drenched in rain, burnt by sun
And at times clinging to cobbles like autumn leaves

I wonder if the streets should've been of cement or tar
For a bit gentler shove to the pavement corner
Much better than broken pieces stuck between cobbles
With no way to be gathered without being broken further
Forget, being joinied back together
Maybe, a smooth end is not for my broken hearts

I keep no count of the hearts lost
Nor of the money that went with each
But the seller at the street corner does keep-
The count; and a new one ever- ready
'For a bare chest doesn't look good without it'
The strategy of a chain-seller, as he says

Maybe my heart is made of cheap gold
So I can afford more than one
But Sir, next time on cobbled streets
If you see pieces of heart stuck between
Pick them up and place on the pavement, if you can
The call girl on Colaba street will die a happy soul...

(c) Akhila Rajesh

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The Night

Rolls and rolls of black sheets
Stained with streaks of rain
Thunderous thoughts and electrocuting screams
My sweet, smiling night, why this pain?

Why this storm of conundrum
And this haze on your placid face
Why this deafening noise of silence
My bold, talkative night, why this refrain?

What dream-filled poems are lost?
Like a half-written life choked short
Among black holes and dark nets
My starry night, why are you torn apart?

Though trapped behind grey clouds
Your moonshine cannot lose its way
Your celestial canvas has the Polaris
To steer through the murky woods

Days are too prosaic to kindle dreams bright
Come back, my dream-filled poetic knight...

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Victims and Spectators

How many times will your eyes turn away?
Implored the ones bleeding tears
The ones that had turned away
Turned further still to stare down,
Transfixed at the abyss of their hearts
The wind lashed shreds of the torn clothes onto their faces
But the eyelashes do not flutter
Burdened they are, one with shame and the other with guilt
Tired, the wind too falls silent, between
Torn clothes and torn conscience
It too turns itself into a vacuum
Where humanity dies frozen

Predators and Spectators

The predators’ eyes look straight into
The eyes that bleed tears
Transfixed by the gore as they blatantly relish their prey’s sight
The wind lashes shreds of the torn clothes
But the beasts have the audacity to mock and roar
At the wind, for only the left-over shreds it could get
Thumping their chests for being first
To rip apart a person’s body and soul
Their eyelashes flutter violently as they
Don’t have to bear any burden of shame or guilt
They silence the wind, they silence the victims
The vacuum of their conscience
Is filled with the spectators’ inaction

 (c) Akhila Rajesh

 

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Thousands and Thousands More

Oh, thousands and thousands more
My mind is befuddled, I can't count anymore

Before you think I hit a jackpot
Let me tell you, I have money that is too short
And debt that is serpentine long
I am drowning between banks mighty strong

Before you think I am a love struck loon
Counting stars from Earth to Moon
Let me tell you, I lost my engagement ring
In a six feet jewel box of the queen of an unlucky king

Before you think I am a crazy Maths genius
Let me tell you, I wanted to kill the one who invented maths for us
What a novel way to torture, I still maintain my childhood claim
Infinity should have stopped at a million's name

But thoudands and thousands more
Oh, I can't count anymore
Eight months gone and no let down in scores
People are no longer people, just statistical chores

Oh God, when will you quarantine Covid?
I can't count more than this...

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Nameless Dolls For Sale

Dolls for sale, dolls for sale
Pretty and nimble, innocent and simple
Chubby cheeks and dream-filled eyes
Rosy lips and cute smiles

Dolls with barbies
Dolls with balloons
And dolls with candysticks
So, what is your pick?

Cheap, affordable and light
On your pockets and on your conscience
Buy one for your son
And for your pleasure too, dear gentleman

Use and throw away as you please
Nobody will come to you asking for them
Nameless, on traffic signals and pavements
These are the dolls of streets

#careforstreetchildren
(c) Akhila Rajesh

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The Critics' League

Like a blot of ink
On a blank canvas
Sits audacious the blue window

Aiming to pale out the sky, eh?
Afterall, a low spot underneath the high sky
Where neighbourhood birds too won't perch to say a 'Hi'

The panes don't open wide
Surely, must be just emptiness to hide inside
Of course, not even words worth a dime

*
Saying thus, creaked the rusty windows
A dozen around, a dozen motormouths
Set in unvaried square jaws
*

Out peeped a rainbow-coloured bird from the azure frame
Crestfallen, few feathers floating down
Yearning to now atleast , in the league, belong

And when the new day's dawn cast its shadow
A featherless bird peeped out of a hollow
The blue signature was now a rusty, mud-brown window-
One more added to the dozen below

(c) Akhila Rajesh

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The Critics' League

Like a blot of ink
On a blank canvas
Sits audacious the blue window

Aiming to pale out the sky, eh?
Afterall, a low spot underneath the high sky
Where neighbourhood birds too won't perch to say a 'Hi'

The panes don't open wide
Surely, must be just emptiness to hide inside
Of course, not even words worth a dime

*
Saying thus, creaked the rusty windows
A dozen around, a dozen motormouths
Set in unvaried square jaws

*

Out peeped a rainbow-coloured bird from the azure frame
Crestfallen, few feathers floating down
Yearning to now atleast , in the league, belong

And when the new day's dawn cast its shadow
A featherless bird peeped out of a hollow
The blue signature was now a rusty, mud-brown window-
One more added to the dozen below

(c) Akhila Rajesh

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The Twilight Rain

Today amidst the twilight sky
As we let the tresses of time
Uncoil into the grey expanse

A handful of stars tumble down
Some full , some broken
On the wrinkled canvas of our faces

Kisses and bruises
We count them each
Oh what made us endure all these?

As we untangle fragile time-strands
Caught in the net of our relationship
We know now knots run deep

Through lips that tasted lips
And sometimes bitter words
All locked in unspoken confines

And if we ask the clouds today
If togetherness was choice or habit
A silent drop will break out

A drop that held us together
Through years of joys and pains
Isn't love that drop?

And now let the drops openly rain...

(c) Akhila Rajesh

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Oh Hell, Social Distancing!

Oh,boxes and boxes
Both big and small
Stack up the cities
From wall - to - wall
The sky looks brown
The rain tastes spoilt
The air chokes breath
And space runs out
Are not homes jails ?
Yes, there's no doubt
Devil's brokers fleece
Costly is thus peace
Oak , walnut or cherry
Or so,you can choose
A wood for your home
And also some trees
That can flower once
Family & friends too
Will come one by one .
Hell social distancing!
We're in here together
In boxes underground

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