मृगजळ

(Continuing my series on Parks in cities. This one on Central Park) माया नगरी, माया बाजार,भांडवलशाही राज्यांचे हे सुवर्ण दार.काम नाही तर राम नाही,काम नाही तर राम नाही,शहराला या आराम नाही. तरीही, भाग्यवान मँहँटनकरांनाआहे एक हक्काचा हिरवा गालिचा,सामान्य माणसाच्या यादीत असतोCentral Park चा फेरफटका. भटकता भटकता दिसते, त्या एखाद्या गरीब बापड्याला,Park मधून डोकावणारे ते पंचतारांकित शहर.तेंव्हा चंमचंमणार्या त्या मंझिंलींचीही भिडते […]

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Alice in Wonderland

(Remembering my walk around Stanley Park, this time around last year) I walk hurriedly like the Mad Hatterbut with an air of a friendly West Coast jet-setter.Very determined, I open the Stanley Park map.A light grey sky cannot deter a Londoner armed with a rainy cap. The Lion Gate bridge adds to its glory as the theatrical sea planes fly […]

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A Weekend in Windermere

In a bright red kayak,bouncing upon the gentle waves of Windermere,flowing in a rhythm of two to two. On a thin wooden branch,swinging over the shore of Windermere,dancing in a rhythm of two to two. Up on my sturdy feet,climbing over the hills at Windermere,descending in a rhythm of two to two. On the narrow roads,driving amidst hues of green […]

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Bread

Mixing, kneading has already been dusted.My weekend beauty sleep has been busted.That occasional clank of the pan withthe soft rattling rolling-pin.A warm doughy waft invites me in. The flour and oil, rolled into a ball so tender.A Phulka, a Paratha, a ghee laden Puran poli, I wonder.I enter nonchalantly and say,”What’s cooking?”Shrinking well below three feet when she says, ” […]

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#MeToo

#Metoo, Me three, Me fourLet the silences unschackle and make a way for an outpour. That brutal gaze, that unwanted touch, those lewd remarks,With a sly smile, mock laughter or those numerous fake pleas. In dark alleys, on morning runs,in a broad daylight bazaar, amidst ganpati processions. That builder in slippers on the train , the whats his name lad drowning in perfume at the bar, the man in a suit with a fancy car. Empty promises, emotional blackmail or unwarranted threats,Sober or drunk, in isolation or crowded streets. My chiffon sari, my friend’s floral dress, my sisters short skirtWill tell you the same story of vulnerability,Of burning rage, of unspoken words, of moral guilt trips, of repressed shame.Ofcourse, the person responsible wasOnly Me. With no safe place to disclose, hush your tone, what will They think, it happens, you will fall flat on your nose. Time we address a change and create an uproar.Because it has been MeToo, Me Three and Me Four. 17 October 2017

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