Its going to be Winter.

(From the archives..View from Chamundi hills in December,last year.Nothing special,everything cold and touched and nostalgic.)

Curled up crinkly toes
nestled in chequered socks
that itch ever so slightly in the morning.

-Bangalore in the winter of 05 and 06.


Bitten-to-the-bone fingers,
overflowing inboxes,
quick-dry medicinal affairs,
half-written letters that meet plastic wrapped dustbins,
softly,
dustily,
forgotten.

-Ahmedabad in late winter 08 and 09.

Photographs that are
wet with dull grey
and redried in rust brown
and pretended about in white-hot vain
and ignored with blue lips
and stained and ripped and chewed abruptly by hastily-shut dubbas in Thai's attic.

-Chennai in early winters over the past few years.

Christmas tree number three
plastic and real.
filter coffee and appams spilt on embroidery
over wicker tables and wobbly phonebooks.
home number three,
with little snuff-nosed ghosts
between the sofas
and behind our hearts.

-Mysore in the winter of 2005.