strains from the city, an exploration in colour

                                             sheets flutter down; view from the third floor of the greater kailash metro station

 

in the park at 4 30 am

                                                                   simar's place, khirkee

                                                                       "we steal brushes"   

                                                                                    people

the afterlife of peggy

Evening

Silhouettes of tombs stare

from outside the glass
under the night sky

Of-course they want the glasshouse,

but we the tomb,

They want a bloody stain

and we the tools

They want rewards,

we, the journey.

We would not have left it there,

if we could shrink before the things we want-

become you,
build without destroying the other,
if we knew there was no second.

"the battle is so silly that winning is not a reward and losing too composed for savage hearts"