sometimes I listen      music hinging on your body
sounds of Maa, Amma, Ammi, Maata and     you
drowning      the radios playing in the alleys    slipping
back to the underfoot     of this bagh:  how unnamed,
the whirr of taxis    the people passing
this Sea Link Road in     crutching breaths
torn with NOW SHOWING posters of
Bachchan dancing in ice       Bombay Velvet,
disfiguring you
these impaired shadows     burning
spilling streetlights   barely plucking the sea
coming to your ridges    falling  apart,
rupturing the moon   wounding me more
than you,




Originally appeared here : The Cadaverine

Nominated by : Trivarna Hariharan

Comment: I like the way it manages to linger in our minds despite its brevity. It weaves you into the city and makes you feel like you’re a part of it. A nuanced usage of the Hindi words in the poem only accentuates it’s beauty. It connects with the readers effectually. The trail of metaphors used in the poem works to it’s credit, evoking strong emotion despite being so subtle in the way it’s written.

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