soon, farewell

trains hum-rumbling past
the azan calling from hidden minarets
glistening streets, winking after rain
solitary cars winding downhill on white-lit road
next to a quiet plant nursery
sleepy street lamps amongst luscious trees
a stately bungalow perched atop a small hill
next to green canopies
colourful bee eaters flitting from trees to wires
the occasional sighting of the neighbourhood oriental buzzard in flight
twinkling lights from houses and the street

and yonder the slow streaming nest of the heron
farther still the stopping place for the vibrant barbet
and always, magpies, yellow orioles, yellow bulbub but also red

daily performances of
spectacular sunsets
magnificent thunderstorms
or clear blue skies with magical clouds

such is the pause at the balcony I oft take for granted
foolishly trading this for the abyss of scrolling
it a little over a month that I will be leaving
I must, let me, take it all in
before it is time to say farewell.

So much time

So much space

So much boredom

So much nothing

and yet

I’d rather wait

and let the predictability plod on

watch the blank spaces go by

Than to fill them with plans and things

without meaning or reason

I’ve decluttered my home

and now I’ve decluttered my calendar

There are wide open spaces

cleaned out and bare

reserved and set aside

there is plenty of room

For you to finally come and occupy.

Splashes of moments from the morning

Pink mangoes adorning a tree;
A wide-eyed cat in a cat backpack —
no, two of them, heaving past on their humans’ backs;
Small white petals reaching out like little cups
Gnarly roots clinging to soil on a raised bank
Spiky shrubs I hadn’t noticed before

Dark blue-grey heavy clouds framing the view,
the sun shining at them and
casting a warm glow on everything else.

Pink unknown flower wanting a kiss
Hibiscus, also pink, with nary a blemish, dancing in the breeze
A cheery elderly lady calls another lady with her back facing me, “Hi Amma,”
(technically, Mom in Tamil)
and the lady calls back, “Hi Aunty,”
I am very confused.

Birds hiding in the trees singing gaily
While the breeze compensates with a cool, lilting touch
Big pipes opening into the green, murky water
I wonder what goes through there
A man lifts a net-like contraption from the lake and replaces its bait

The heron isn’t at its usual spot
Where has it been?
But its home the little brook hurries along noisily
Carrying the rain from the night before

Hardly a ferocious bark
to spoil the walk with trepidation
A dark bird flits in a tree —
ah, it’s only a kohl
The magpies are chatty today, but shy —
didn’t see any

Three sets of leg lifts at the exercise zone
Some light stretching
Some brisk walking
The rest was walking in wonder
All in all, a luxurious stroll.

The need to run away

I find comfort in fantasies or running
Escaping the current moment
for something outside this train.
I begin to build possibilities in my mind—
alternative worlds,
multiverses,
options.
When I run away I begin to find
what it is I really want,
buried ‘neath the clutter and the dust.
Having found it,
I begin to bring what I really want
into my moments of today
into this train,
and learn to live fully here again.