WINDOW
There is a window.
It has to be on the wall,
it cannot be anywhere else.
And I'm standing by it.
Now that I know the magic words-
I can change myself into anything.
So I've decided to become a bird.
Because if I have to go, it has to be
now.
So I shall sprout wings,
stretch them out as branches of a banyan
tree,
perch on claws,
and raise this body that contains woman.
But nothing moves.
Everything is, as it first started.
Something as invisible as time,
has driven its nails through the soles.
I am fixed as a petal to its colour.
UNDER THE TRAFFIC-SIGNAL
One evening you realise
that the earth having somersaulted once,
is ready for the next jump.
This has happened
while you were standing
under a familiar traffic-signal
by the city cross-roads.
Tomorrow this might repeat itself.
Because the moment of renewal
can take place
at any point of your existence
on earth.
Then, perhaps, you would not be aware
of the phenomenon that had just passed
by—
because you are on a tree
trying hard to listen to water
trickling into veins of leaves
that are just beginning to open.