MUSINGS

-1-


Men, sometimes, are so intoxicated
with love, poetry or idle dreams
that not even the oldest fear of death
could coax them out of the addiction
to convince them that they have a life besides

-2-


I wonder how it feels
when the greatest artistes die unnoticed
and the finest pieces of plagiarism
are auctioned in the most famous museums


A poet died last night
but there was no one
to mourn for him


Not that it would have mattered more
if an assassin lay dead in the circus


and it’s not a bad thing either
for the world now
has too many poets

-3-


I wake up at dawn
to the smell of coffee and cold kisses


Every poet
has a girl in his life


These days, I don’t read newspapers
for fear of corrupting myself


and even teenagers
hate the burden of boredom
or bachelorhood

-4-


Nothing sounds more fucking
than the alarm clock on a cold Monday morning


I ransom my thoughts to the reveries
and pray for the renaissance to resume


On vacant Sunday afternoons
my ears jar to the misty symphonies


I confess,
that, at times, I miss you


Perhaps we were ever too close
to be called just ‘friends’

-5-


I wonder what life would be like
without Elton or Enrique


or even without you!

-6-


How long can one argue
over Obama or McCain?


How long does one worry
about Saddam or Singur?


How long can a man live
without God or his girlfriend?


And tell me,
how long does it take to know
if someone is too nice to be a friend?

-7-


Last week, I never even once
dreamt about you


and I checked my cellphone
twenty times a day for your missed calls
but there wasn’t any!


Yet I don’t blame you
for these little disasters


Such odd tragedies
are quite common in a love affair

-8-


Tell me,
do you remember my pain
of being forgotten?


Will politicians, for a change
stop declaring impromptu holidays?


Will you ever understand
each line of every post-modern poetry?


And will you,
yes you,
still remember me the same way
even ten years later?

-9-


Life, at times, is painfully predictable!


Yet, I am not like Saktibabu, at least
who frequents Maddox Square during pujas
with his tenth live-in girlfriend


The first two were secretly killed
a third died of an unknown illness
while the rest are missing

-10-


Princess, we have talked for hours
but have never spoken


Sometimes, it’s easier to talk
than speak, like we did
last Halloween


Linkin Park and Fossils
are fast growing old


and so are you,
think twice before you lose
the cuteness of your girlhood

-12-


Nowadays, when I think
only scarecrows smile at me
and the rustle of soft seconds
mock the fake silence


My poem falls in the translucency
and fractures into shreds


No poet will ever call a poem his best
until he has given up writing forever


At least, I won’t
call this my masterpiece


But, what about you?