Aparna Kongot

The Song

There is a song in
the dark mystic sea
the charges of an atom
the game of jungle shadows
the mermaids and unicorns
the eagle sailing the pink sky
the strange uncertain gullies
the time that is now
and
That is my song.

Like steam,

escaping the black iron kettle

Pour me your pain

My shoulders are ferrous

Like rays,

flooding sheer white muslin

Bring me your joy

The morning

The frosted window pane stuck in its rusty hinge is half open. I wonder how long it has been that way. Time insists on waiting for none and I’m no favourite child who gets an exception. I let it go without me, for this blurry morning is trying to tell me something. A mop leans against the brown tiled wall…

We are all Clouds

The clouds meander the violet skies. They drift, evolve and die — only to resurrect. When they do, the stars and their empty chatters blend into the darkness. The quintessential moon smiles, gracefully bows and hides. Yet, the clouds swim along undeterred. They know what mattered was the burning…

Love

The dusty feather
beneath a forgotten rock

The trodden pod
split ripe

The fallen flower
Its fragrance fading

Chidyatapu, Andaman and Nicobar islands

blue hills
grim mangroves
waltzing wind
teasing waves
together at play
gently siphon
all of me
and my
yellow tunic