Author Archives: tapeshwar

Blind eyes

See me
through blind eyes
The savannah of my dreams
Where all is arid land –
Plain and dry;
Rarely a tree grows like a canopy
Neither the grass
Subdue, the cry of pain
Where lions roar like a cat
And zebras marks a cut on their skins.
Lame; angry elephants pull the skies, and
Mosquitoes grow a sharp thorn
I spread miles and miles
in beauty and expanse
I burn like a perennial fire
Dark soot
Bellowing in the night


I cannot pretend, that
I am not seeing television
The screen of which is switched off
I could see the reflections
of my ceiling fan revolving, mapping
its shadow on the opposite muted walls

These news, these shop operas
Don’t hold me dear
I am not talking about George Floyd, or
of a pregnant elephant gulping pineapple crackers within
I am my own “I can’t breath”;
I am my own dead trumpet

I have my own friendship
“Friendship with none”
I am the cast away man
Running after my own reflection.
Hold me a nonentity
Balkanization of my thoughts

Leafy flight

I took nothing
of a definite sort
luring me to rest, and
It went on blowing
Whole of fearful nights

I kept my child, safe
Warmth of my womb
The only safety floating inside, that
he must not see outside –
The gallow of the darker nights

What hanker it cries
Outside; whirling.
It was all bricks and mortar
Birthing a new death, and
I took to a leafy flight