Skip to main content

CST Station at 7:45 PM on Sunday 21 December, 2008

winter clouds
this silent scream
in my eyes

The loo stinks, the tap runs and can't be closed. The risk of dying of a urinary tract infection or asphyxiation is still the same. The sole policeman visible, young and unarmed, is ostensibly guarding the ladies' first class. The rather bright lights are a change though, but they seem to make the place seem a wee bit less crowded. Seem. There are people sitting on the platform, waiting for their trains. Many in their Sunday best. Popcorn-sellers, peanut-sellers, kulfi-sellers are trying to get me to shed some money towards them, even as I wait for the samosa-seller.

yellow leaves
the old woman sweeps up
yesterday

It's getting on eight (time for the Titwala Fast to leave), and last-minute boarders are jumping in. The popcorn-seller is taking his last chances before he moves to the 8:13 Khopoli Slow. I don't know how many of the guys around me are pass-holders or even bothered to buy tickets. I do know the police didn't frisk them. Because they didn't frisk me. The Sunday tradition of husbands and wives travelling together in the general second class is quite alive – which means I will have to stand (or sit) a bit more uncomfortably to keep out of the way of somebody's missus. Her vocal objections being well-buttressed by her husband's manual ones.

summer lull
waiting for jamuns
to ripen

The train has pulled out, so no samosas now. Anyway, I'm soon going to forget things, trying to fight off a fourth sitter, or looking out of the window to know when my station's going to come. There have been just two changes. One, a perfectly unjustified sense of dread as soon as I entered. (That disappeared after the train pulled out). The other was more permanent. There was a hole in a pillar, the sole memory that something unusual happened here.

cloudless sunrise—
red silk-cotton blooms
on barren branch

(Published in GloMag April 2016)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Haiku in India: A few glimpses from the past 12 months

This year has been an eventful one for India, with respect to haiku and related genres. A new journal, an actively subscribed kukai, a forthcoming conference and several individual activities have meant that India has been an exciting country to be in if you are a haijin. Activities in the past year: The year began with Dr. Angelee Deodhar, the doyenne of India haiku (who has been writing since 1989), giving a talk to the Poetry Society of Hyderabad, which was very well-received. On the following day, assisted by Paresh Tiwari, she conducted a day long haiku workshop in Hyderabad. The workshop was dedicated to Bill Higginson and she told the participants that they should use The Haiku Handbook as a Bible to learn haiku. As Ireland was the guest nation, Gabriel Rosenstock was there too. Then in New Delhi on the 27th of January, Dr. Angelee Deodhar conducted a two and half hour bilingual workshop in a school meant for slum children. 45 children sat on a thin durree on the ground and...

The Burger

I jingled them in my hand. I had no fresh notes to crinkle. No soiled ones either. They were all that was - four nickel coins. I looked up at the counter, at my palm, at the counter again. It lay there upon the counter, encased in thin plastic. It too, was all there was. The choice was clear - either the acid in my stomach digested it, or the acid digested me. The coins now jingled behind the counter. The plastic crinkled in my hand. I threw it away, and fingered the bun. Hard, stale crust, thankfully not mouldy yet. Cold, oil-oozing patty. Tomato slices, slightly rancid, their sourness accented by fermentation. Limp onion slices that failed to sting. The onions failed to sting. My desperation did. half-eaten sun; the street urchin sifts garbage Published in Cattails

the taste of sea breeze

Our e-book, the taste of sea breeze , was published as a celebration of two years of IN haiku Mumbai . This anthology contains haiku, tanka, senryu, haibun and renku, alongside a form which we think we invented - the renbun (haibun linked to each other on the lines of renku). Available on Amazon.in , it is edited by Rohini Gupta ( who also did the cover ), with contributions from Paresh Tiwari, Mahrukh Bulsara, Brijesh Raj, Gautam Nadkarni, Sandra Martyres, Kasturi Jadhav, Rochelle Potkar and yours truly. Here are a few reviews so far on the Amazon page : A Lovely Tasting! (Kashmira Raj on 16 July 2016) For Haiku lovers, this book packs a punch. There are some pleasant surprises here and I found several 'aha' moments. Some verses have touched the heart bringing to mind visions from my past. The beauty of this is that it sometimes evokes an entire thought process, different from what the writer may have meant to convey, thereby leaving an indelible mark. Not only th...