Twinkling, tinkling,Fragile and clear,Tiny little crystal ballsPiled in both my hands.Each in its tiny bosom has,Moments of life held entrapped.A hard wrung tear of my eye,A moment of pain,A quiet smile,A murmur ofA restless stream,Rainbows in the dewdrops heldIn nets of silky cobwebs dwell,A dear voice calling my name,A fear assailed,A thought reclaimed,The touch of […]
Moments Crystallized Read More »
I read your books,And mastered your tongue;Your Dante and Milton,Shakespeare and Keats,Your Hugo, Russel,Camus and SartreAnd Marx;Your philosophy, your science.Your ‘discovery’ of the ‘New World’,I watched with amazement;For, had not our civilizationsLived and grownAeons before you ‘discovered’ us?I hear your righteous angerAgainst my ‘enslavement,My veil.You wanted to see me nakedJust like your women,Who you have
I’ve tried to speak to youThrough this glass wall.I know you do not hear meAny more.I’ve gesturedAnd mouthed my words,Slow and loudLike the deaf mute.You did not seem to see. I’ve hammered and poundedAnd beaten at the glass,Until my hands bled.I’ve cried and wailed and sobbedTill not a tear was left to shed.It did not
They named me after the falcon,For they knew that I must fly,That the wind beckoned meAnd so did the sky.They knew that I must wander,Or in stillness I would die;For my spirit was unfetteredAnd all bonds were just a lie.No, I was no bird;Man was my sire.Born I was with wings though,And a heart filled
Greed O noble Greed, much maligned and hated, more sinned against than sinning yourself, come to me and bring your life giving force, which compelled man to evolve and grow and make of life a little more than mere existence!! That is my morning prayer. I love greed. Why, in the name of God, and
EULOGY TO NOBLE GREED Read More »
ART AS GENDERED LITERATURE [Sent to Mukta, Telangana Women’s Collective through Vimala Katineni on 28th January 2017] I shall not dwell interminably on the history of art in Telangana or what, if at all, was its feminist content. As a writer who once had the ambition to be a painter because of considerable appreciation from
ART AS GENDERED LITERATURE Read More »
Travels I have done many; Journeys, a few. And trekking, some in the Himalayas. Since that fateful day in 2011, when I first stepped out of a train onto Katgotham railway platform and breathed the sharp clean air, I transformed into another person. Himalayas brought home a curiously different perspective to life, an amazing disconnect
THE HIMALAYAN DIARIES – Part 1 Read More »
Solitary travel is a creative occupation. And yes, for women as well, although a bit rare, particularly for middle-aged women in India, or at least it was rare eleven years ago when I started to travel alone or with a friend or family member for only a part. Travelling alone was not my idea of
[Published in Chaman, October 2016 issue in Telugu script] Bus! Ab rona-dhona bandh! Musalmanon ka bhot bura haal hai, isse battar nai hosakta. Koi hamare vaste kuch nai karrein aur hum bi apne vaste kuch nai karrein. Government hamare moo mein niwale daali toich hum khainge, nai to bhukke rhainge? Hum logan aise hai kya?
This is a conversation I had with my friends and acquaintances over WhatsApp when the hurt I felt about the lynching of Muslims, broke my and their silence. I thought we have heard many debates from the apologists and the dissenters. Should you not hear it from the horse’s mouth? Should not the bigger issue
