TANKA
She hears the voice
of unrealized bliss in
the coos of koel
at the window sill this evening
rains love and delight
His message to meet
at moonrise among the flowers
sparkles a secret
on her smiling face passion
glows with charming fervour
She is no moon yet
she drifts like the moon, takes care
of him from the sky—
meets him for short, waxing
leaves him for a long, waning
Before going to bed
she looks too sad to have
any sweet dream:
the lonely lamp glints no love
and no star peeks through the curtains
Yearning to meet him
she turns a silk-worm spinning
love-silk in cold night—
stands in a shade melting tears
like a candle, drop by drop
Stains of dried dewy
tears on the eyelids tell of
the load on her mind:
clothed in spring the willow twigs
reveal the changed relation
Locked in the shadows
of unrolled curtains her love
in the lone boudoir:
she plays tunes on the guitar
flowers fade at the windows
She senses all things
changing as she passes through
the city again:
should I leave the old house or
lie in the grave before death
Twisting tassels
round her finger fears coming
of night in bed:
octopus grips the body
and buckles into disgrace
At the river
she folds her arms and legs
resting her head
upon the knees and sits
as an island
Is it her quietus
that she roars in herself
like a sea
waves upon waves
leaps upon herself?
Gods couldn’t change the rhythm
of the body and its needs:
erotic scars stick—
after three decades love waves
tense the flesh and rock the night
When the sun is erotic
and the moon lyric
the winds turn tempestuous
in the orbit of love
legs slide by calls of nature
Before the foamy
water could sting her vulva
a jelly fish passed
through the crotch making her shy—
the sea whispered a new song
Swirling spiral
of her skirt spills tides of dream
and memory:
I breathe fire in the dance
forgetting bends and twists
When I wanted to change
seats my friend said she can
only if the door’s locked
the light out and her mom
in another city
When I inhale in
your mouth and exhale stroking
hair or caressing
I ride you into joy and
make you hail morning like earth
Life limits between
whence the sun rises and where
it goes to relax:
joys of a fleeting moment
I see Aditi in your eyes
When I have no home
I seek refuge in the cage
of your heart and close
my eyes to see with your nipples
the tree that cared to save from sun
The smile you weave splits
the sun I lose my direction
in clouds that cover
the banks darkening the white
of the lake moon kissed
Winter is caught in
waves of narrow discussions
under the blanket
fingers move by nipples erect
without sensing consummation
Drinking evening star
blue green patterns before eyes
no meditation
no god visits to forgive
the sinning soul in solitude
Exhausted she sleeps
unaware of my presence
this warm night carefree
I croon my spring song alone
and fill the void with new dreams
As I repose in
the wrinkles of her face
I feel her crimson
glow in my eyes her holy
scent inside a sea of peace
The room has her
presence every minute
I feel she speaks
in my deep
silently
Love is the efflux
from her body spreading
parabolic hue—
enlightens the self I merge
in her glowing presence
Looking at her face
for the glint of her nosepin
or rise of renku
they couldn’t finish but form
in their eyes together
Your vacant eyes
reveal this city:
dim, humid, absent-minded
orchestrates bronchial noises
‘quake in the face
Living in dust smoke
and white darkness I know
I just flicker—
stand alone like a lighthouse
lost in the fog of seashore
What should I do
about the mornings
that couldn’t be:
now fog controls
appearance of the sun
Breathing pipe choked
with coloured dust celebrate
spring in coalfield:
the moon mocks my nightly plight
I look for the inhaler
The chilly wind blows
to freeze my feet and fingers
tonight I can’t rise
and silence the whisperings
storming the vacant room
Ghosts rise to mate
in moonlight tear the tombs
frighten with fingers
rhino horns rock the centre
granite sensation
I lost my sleep
over a thought I could not
make my own:
the sun’s antidote changed
the voice of the wind
Sleeps the night with
desires wrapped in blanket—
spring in the eyes
gods couldn’t change the rhythm
of the body and its needs
Drugs don’t diagnose so
let’s kiss our sneezes
into each other and stop
worrying about repression
necessary or surplus
Watching the waves
with him she makes an angle
in contemplation:
green weed and white foam break
on the beach with falling mood
Crazy these people
don’t know how to go
down with the swirl and
up with the whirl but
play in the raging water
They couldn’t hide the moon
in water or boat but now
fish moonlight from sky:
I watch their wisdom and smile
why I lent my rod and bait
A cloud-eagle
curves to the haze
in the west
skimming the sail
on soundless sea
I thought I’d exchange
my anxieties for a bit
of peace but thinking
was easier than happening:
I couldn’t even sleep
Standing at the edge
I long to float with waves and
wave with instant wind:
on the dream water’s breast
I read tomorrow’s wonder
My hand held out
in the dark remained empty:
no one reached it
to give joy of
the meeting hands
The heat inside will
reduce with the flow of blood
and cactus may bloom
in desert of flesh again
the heart may feel the green wave
The truth of our
togetherness is more real
when we lie filling
our body with each other
silencing sensation
I fear the demons
rising from my body
at midnight crowding
the mind and leading the soul
to deeper darkness
Sleeps the night with
desires wrapped in blanket—
spring in the eyes
gods couldn’t change the rhythm
of the body and its needs
Awake in dream time
he looks for the candle—
love’s invitation
lighting up in the dark
and sings the body’s song
The nightqueen fragrance
seeps in through the window
coupled with full moon
adds to my delight though I’m
alone in my bed tonight
The sleep is buried
in sex for diversion
yoga or prayers:
the dawn preserves bitter eyes
in the day’s bleak passage
An insomniac
weak with desires and prayers
hears the heartbeats
rising fast with dark hours
survives one more nightmare
Seven times he moves
round the vermillion god
under the peepal
sprinkling water to escape
the malefic Saturn
He watches the mound
of dead leaves in the backyard
to grow dreams after
the end of summer and drought:
rains nurture seeds birds buried
Muttering Tablet
of Ahmad in TV noise
he lies on the sofa
by window seeking
post-lunch nap for change
Bored with politics
and news of falling sensex
he folds the paper
and flips through the old PLAYBOYs
to see the nudes seen in youth
She receives my call
complaining why I didn’t go
to see my father
while he says it’s alright
only gums bleed and joints ache
Gentle like a dove
love was graceful a night away
on the white wave it’s
a sea searching ways leaps to
eternity tonight
The bamboo garden
we picknicked and made love in
is now all concrete—
managing environment
and pollution control
The power goes off
suddenly summer heat chokes
in bed sleepless she turns
undoing a hook or two
of her tight bra
Greeting the first rains
after months of soaring heat
the lone rose flutters
little petals to the ground
echoing our first embrace
Shining on rose leaves
silken layer of dew drops:
gloss of her mauve smile
she blushes when I tell her
beauty of the blooming rose
Roses await
sun and wind to clear
the baleful fog:
I fear she’ll say no
to my love again
I’m no romantic
turning sufferings to bliss
and delude in
heavenly meeting with god
or life’s grandeur and greatness
I’m human and feel
their meanness every moment
get angry and lose
my sleep as the earth writhes in
the pain butchers knives inflict
There’s little save
poetry and prayer
to put up with
rising darkness in and out
and god too is silent
Couldn’t be happy with
my present nor could realize
any dreams all these years—
there’s nothing to look back
to say I lived my life well
The chart predicts
I must keep the company
of the righteous
but how to find one among
the wicked that write our fate
Psalms or no psalms;
workers of iniquity
shoot their arrows
with praising lips and god
flees to see their shrewd schemes
Recedes into self:
crooked trees and leaking roofs—
the city conspires
swarmed with listless spirits
young and living, slowly dying
Hiding or waiting
it raises its head when least
expected, a snake
glitters in the eyes, looks for
the moment to reveal fangs
Crudity
of the stone conceals
grace of nudity
the image of Kali
reveals to her devotee
The sun
on a mountain
grave illumines the path
to divinity unrealized
in soul
With steel flow
the rolling water
pierces the rocks
shapes them into stars
turned into river’s song
She visits
a beauty parlour
to erase wrinkles
and returns with the same
wintry darkness
The lips in her eyes
and long hours in the mouth—
no moist secret
between us to reveal:
now our backs to each other
All her predictions
could come true had I paid her
the fees for her writing
psychic reflections on dreams
I failed to realize in life
Wrinkles on the skin
remind me of time’s passage
year by year traveled
long distances renewing
spirit and waving good bye
Stray fungi grow
on the broken window frames
beside my bed
watery smell swells as if
a corpse in the river
Feeling the difference
between a tin house and
a weather proof tent:
on the Yamuna’s bank
Kumbh deluge to wash sins
With black and white marks
and nest of ants on its skin
the tree grows taller
shining through the geometry
of sun, moon and halogen
My voice
brown like autumn
crushed in noises I can’t
understand days pass in colours
buried
Layers of dust thicken
on the mirror water makes
the smut prominent:
I wipe and wipe and yet
the stains stay like sin
In the forest of your hair
my finger searches
the little pearl of blood
that stirs the hidden waters
and contains my restlessness
The sun couldn’t help
nor fish protest:
river has no sex
so it dried up
trapped in its own banks
I’m no river
flowing toward the sea:
I must find my way
asking strangers in strange places
sensing soul, using insight
The otter watches
a duck walking on
the frozen river
icicles drop bit by bit
from a lone tree
I couldn’t understand
what’s Hindu about having
fish and onion
after prayers by the river
in the temple courtyard
Fears to see
his own image in
her eyes so
avoids seeing her again
betrays his cowardice
They watch her bare back
to feel the body through crotch
thank engraving pen
she loves the etching on skin
to enhance nudity
Dancing on
the car top a girl
holds the mike
to express her love
twists the audience
Slung-jawed awake
two grinning skeletons sit
bolt upright in bed
hear the shrieks next door but
too scared to call the police
The nightly ghosts crowd
my mind’s passage to forge
gods’ names in disguise
I fail to scan the face
of thought and life in the dark
The chill outside
deprives me of the bright moon
I breathe in my fears:
asthmatic bouts haunt and
jealousy itches the throat
Night’s prisoned friends
keep me awake with planes
flying over the ashram
every now and then I watch
the directions matter
One thousand miles
traveling together
in tense silence
he and she contemplate
the next round of duel
I can’t cement cracks
nor save the frames from collapse:
the wreck reveals the myth
I need not knit new dreams
if truth’s so cold and stingy
The yellowing patch
on the lawn won’t green with
pesticides—
the water infects the roots
even if I am drying up here
Each night speaks to me
in flatulence, wheezing
and pain in the legs:
god intervenes at times
in momentary union
With years of rubbish
he reeks of aborted dreams
lives a stagnant pool
cut off from the running source
rots in the marsh like a frog
They own little earth
and seek to auction the sky:
excel by default
god too becomes a party
to their flight with wax wings
Lying all day
with pain in the heels
and sinking heart
I read tanka and wait
for miracle to sleep
Burning without warmth
one more hot and sweaty spell
of summer, restless
down with stroke, without light, fan
exhausted, alone in bed
Ageing he thinks of
the ashes and the long trip
ahead in spirit
feels the earth he would
become celebrating life
New leaves welcome
his shadow near the window
the telephone rings
perhaps to greet Naw Ruz:
I didn’t pray or keep the fast
Like tramps and dogs
they piss and shit I see
I’m sucked in my own cracks:
now curl and cry
but none bother
With moral twists
name of god or religion
they fly planes to bomb
sheep of his pasture and
expect grace for humankind
Preaching peace
explode ‘plane bomb, car bomb
human bomb
and bluff the living corpses
with politics of terror
They claim to kill satan
mass murder innocents
and blow themselves up:
I wonder how god condones
vague prophets and their cult
From the border rings
he’s stationed dangerously:
any moment war
may break out for their follies
he must kill and live…to kill
In my impatience
I werdle or opup more:
they take their own time
here waiting is more aweful
than meeting or going
Vibration of thought
with their venom in groups
my spirit disturbed
I lose desire to live here
conceal my angst in tanka
Concealing mourning
in twilight gaze he explores
the shaping nightmares:
colours of the rainbow guard
the beasts at the day’s entrance
Their loose tattle
or loitering on the street
changes nothing
not even the hand they wave
to penetrate the body
Surging like a wave
they image in the air and
end up wriggling worms
hiding through the thick hedges
digging the dark undergrowth
Naked children crowd
as I pass through the alleys
between smelly slums:
dogs bark to alert them to
the presence of a stranger
Swallowing capsules
he trusts in absent healing
seeks intercessions
to cure allergic asthma
and the cyst not contracting
Is it the water
or sweat flowing from the cleft
they queue up to drink?
not far away the masons cut
rocks to build a new highway
The sun of knowledge
shining through the beer bottle
under the neem tree:
carousing, singing in praise
of gods and ghosts that never drank
He takes out the letter
and writes a poem on its back
recalling the last words
winds whispered through the stars
that still shine in the sky
Waving arms of trees
conspire with overcast day
to drench again
the two of us look for shade
under leaking umbrella
Over the dried moss
rains have grown new layers
making the path more
slippery for all of us
falling is a postscript now
Laden with new shoots
the trees promise mangoes
to celebrate summer:
the dust-storm and rain shatter
all hopes hanging by snapped wire
Waiting for the remains
of sacrifice vultures
on the temple tree
stink with humans and goddess
on the river’s bank
Copyright: R.K.Singh
Published in The River Returns (Bareilly: Prakash Book Depot, 2006)
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