#1: Rockstar

Lets do it.

She smiled at me and said it in a fashion,

that made me not understand what she meant.

Why am I here with this bitch?

There’s some strange happenings in the stars up there

A friend of mine is into astrology,

He tells me that today is the day for

Some rare planetary confluence

His thing with astrology is like my thing with writing

She looked with a strange whimsical frown on her face;

Her face slowly started losing its mass,

Slowly turning transparent she faded away.

Then just when things were setting into a rigid reality

The body scattered spontaneously into a million little pieces of marble pieces

Déjà vu

The bitches scream pierced into the ears just then.

The drums coming mellow and full,

The concert is rocking and I can’t play nor sing.

In the strobe light I banged my head

And pranced around the stage

All my hair going wildly over my face

And in the throng of neon strobes

I saw her face near mine.

This is so cool,

She said.

Something snapped;

What the fuck is she saying?

What’s so cool about this?

Gooey the darkness wrapped around me

The smell of the mash gas spread

I pulled my face up from the dirt

Mud caked over the eyes

Rain was pitter-pattering on my back

Tingling on my spine

The bitch’s scream resonated from the mud

In the mud there was the cast of a face

Strange and unfamiliar

Separating that cast

Tearing it from within

Her face appeared again close to mine

Salvation she screamed

And I felt my testicles empty into the mud.

The bitch’s nails dug through the mud into the buttocks

There’s blood on the sheets.

What had happened?

Doesn’t feel like I slept at all

My paunch feels bigger and my head feels cold.

In the mirror there’s a face I’ve never seen before.

Time for the dizzy head conscience stricken,

Falling faster into the bed,

Time to catch a ride and leave today,

Too much tripping and the souls worn thin.


#2: Indira is cool…

From the time I was a child images meant more to me than the object they were a representation of. In a sense, a corollary would be that people were less important than they feeling they created. Personas get projected everyday in the little actions that people committed everyday, often not in keeping with gross appearance.

I saw Indira Gandhi and Rajiv Gandhi on TV a lot when I was a kid. Funny thing is that my Granma looked a lot like Indira and Rajiv. The critical similarity was the beak nose. My Granma also had the iron will and forceful personality that images of Indira released in my childhood seem to portray.

There was one particular incident which does not seem in keeping with the flow of the writing that keeps coming to mind when I think of her. One night after a heavy dinner four of us, the grandchildren were sitting in the portico under the night sky with no other light but the flickering flame of as kerosene lamp and talking bullshit. My father and mother and my aunt and uncle sat talking things we weren’t too keen about. I was busy listening to the sounds of the night. Being a kid mostly bought up in the city for 3 years of my 6 year life, that sound held a great fascination for me. Suddenly we all heard a fart. The four of us started to accuse each other of having farted. This commotion became very loud and the adults seemed to get great fun out of it. They told us to stop squabbling about stupid shit. This did not pacify us and then finally my grandma said, “… don’t fight none of you farted, it was me who farted.”

I don’t know why, I always felt that that one confession set her off as an enlightened adult in my eyes ever since, and something about the way she said it made me feel she deserves to look like Indira Gandhi. I am just an ordinary guy, I never got to know Indira Gandhi, so I don’t know if she was a cool person or not, but my grandma was a cool person and Indira used to look like her in the pictures taken of her, so for me the association with my grandma casts a positive light on Indira, making her cool.