Three Poems
By Arunima Paul
Corsica
Ved and Tara can be
just, Ved and Tara
knowledge and star.
Just be
or become
Don and Mona.
Like Sid, Akash, Sameer,
Arjun, Farhan, Kabir
shirk off
Self
destiny
history
homily
litany
ennui
and ride the crests
of windswept yarns
in Corsica.
Their unfurling moods
brows, lids, lips –
are the parting folds of
diaphanous kites
upon which
unweighted
we soar
shaking holi colors
out of our hair.
For we are not
skins or pores
mouths, names or hands
that must pierce
with every breath
the gelatinous air
lest it crush us in
imploding
our soft, warm
star-flesh.
***
a friendship
we were rather novel
to each other, but also
very like, each other
as good friends can be
yet
ever on the brink
of flares
that blew in worlds
and their different, undermined ways
long-nourished devaluations
painful regressions
the other’s naivetés
and tired affection.
what is friendship?
a symmetrical bending
uprighting
of velvety reeds,
a mutual miming, perhaps
or a tangle
where the other’s rasp
reverberates in you
forever
in strained, loopy counterpoint.
but what broke us up?
specifically?
perhaps the forces
that threw us –
a man such as you
a woman such as me
here, together
in the first place.
the shored up
prideful neutrality
of modern-yet
time-honoring men
marking territory
over nation
family
history
comportment.
and quippy, indignant daughters
of zealous
self-secular founders
of another nation, modernity.
In time, every quarrel
expands, contracts
to the elemental
soul
till we finally part
our etiquettes outraged.
in the 5th month
feeling the withdrawal
I check your Facebook
videos
captions
tricolored filter
you are, as always
valiantly ridiculing
the misguided.
my breath quickening
I return to my Home feed.
I suppose,
this is me using
‘better judgment’.
***
via Wilson/Green
the Friday 4 pm zing.
besides the toe-stubbing ridges
on the sidewalk
must look out for cars
shooting out of parking
slick folks on screechy wheels
baying for the freeway.
make eye-contact
before stepping off
he’d say
if we were walking together.
my arm
around the curve of his torso
his, over my shoulder
catching my hair.
we’d delink at the crosswalk.
baiting the eye, another salon!
“grand opening”
it looks like one of those
that’ll offer me
some post-cut gunk
for my “frizz”.
where Brazilian blowouts
will be twirled quietly
past twilight.
above the blocks
the San Gabriel mountains
stretch a patchy green
but look brown
from here.
in another 30 mins
they’ll be bathed
scarlet
from the ocean-bound sun.
but right now
the mountains are just sunny
and drought-ridden.
nearing the turn, I feel
the ‘cowboy’ fringe
of my bag
swish behind me
in sync with my steps.
and I first hear it,
a kissing ‘catcall’
deftly rising from the back
above layers of
revs-whooshes-screeches.
unsure, I keep my pace
my shoulders inert
refuse, deny
reception.
but the sonic missile
presses on the deeper membranes
a pair of funneled
wet lips
a crooking tongue.
shrill perorations
blown
through space, thought, air, mortar
through me.
then two repeat performances
the final one delivered
direct look
via rear-view mirror
before our mutual
parting.
hours and a train-ride later
post-grub
when I remember
and try to illustrate
my friend
will smile
weakly, kindly
at my failed mimicry.
Photo-credit: Arunima Paul
Bio:
Arunima Paul recently completed her doctoral dissertation on contemporary Hindi cinema at the University of Southern California, USA. She currently lives in Pasadena and enjoys teaching. She can be reached at: arunima.paul@gmail.com
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Cafe Dissensus Everyday is the blog of Cafe Dissensus magazine, based in New York City, USA. All materials on the site are protected under Creative Commons License.
***
Read the latest issue of Cafe Dissensus Magazine on ‘Cosmopolitanism in a City: The Past and Present of Calicut’, edited by Archa NG, Research Scholar, JNU, New Delhi, India.
One Response to “Three Poems”
Beautiful, delicate work. Thanks for sharing.