while waiting,
a brown ***** stares.
unshawled, it barks.

the seat next to me remains seatless.

the tinted glasses slide without a sound,
painting a portrait of a lonely girl.
heart sunk, eyes preying on sleep.

Sylvia comes tip-toeing, and sits next to me,
spewing verses like a venom-spouting python,
encrusting and refusing to let go.

i see the tinted glasses reflecting back amnesias.

Shalini Nayar
© 2002

“How do you want it?” the hairdresser asked.
“Bald.” I quipped.

Shalini Nayar
© 2002

remember the chilly night
when we floated across the bright pimpled moon
penetrated the stardust-fog,
and sighed at the sadness happening down below?
remember the rainy day
when we stole morning glory dews
spat out seeds that grew into gallant shelters
and sighed at the sparrow that had no place to go?

Shalini Nayar
© 2002

Is this love then, this red material
Issuing from the steele needle that flies so blindingly?
It will make little dresses and coats,
It will cover a dynasty.
-Sylvia Plath, “An Appearance”*


Is this love
The crashing waves of scattered memories
That laughs and giggles along with my schoolgirl silliness
Only to be choked by reality?

Is this love
When every minute smells of you
Even as I try to immobilize my senses
My heart flutters helplessly like a caged butterfly,
That is wingless and beautiful?

Is this love
The aftertaste of bitterness
That lives on the edges of unpleasant dreams
When I couldn’t feel the way I used to feel?

So is this love then
A tapestry of escapism only our feelings can weave?

Shalini Nayar
© 2002

He sits in angle that is just perfect for me.
When I first see him, he rises his head to hear his friend speak.
I think he’s bored. Or engrossed.
It’s hard to tell when his specs don’t reflect back any clues.

It was the way he was in control of the situation.
Calm, disciplined and confident.
It was in the way he ate, it was the way he drank his coffee
And his eyes met mine.

What do you do next
What can you make out of this situation that’s beginning to bloom
How do you contain a beating heart that says
JUST KEEP LOOOOOOOKING…

He bows his head as if searching for the right moment to prey
When I wait and wait and wait and wait
And he looks up
And this time, there’s a slight smile dimpled on his lips.

I’ve got a feeling we both already know what each of us don’t really know for sure yet.

Shalini Nayar
© 2006

Her song swims in waves into the river,
The swift current cradling it by.
Her melody stumbles across the rocks,
The quavers settle offshore till the wave-bubble
Licks them back.

The scattered ashes come to life.

Shalini Nayar
© 2005

Death cringes at the doorstep, saying,
“We’ve come to the wrong house.”

Shalini Nayar
© 2005