Ruins

He said with rapidly failing breath

"You need to trust , have faith "

In what ,where or whom ? 

I questioned the vacuum 

People had turned to stone 

Stirrings stilled , no moan

Whither to go? What to ask? 

Wherein lies next survival task?

Stony faces of the living 

No speech , little feeling 

They're dead . Screamed

The molten gold summer skies ,

They're gone , mourned 

The howling winds, hovering kites

In a land laid bare, bereft

There is no fear of theft

Providence has given , grain and gain

And it has taken again and again

For thousands of years 

Words will fall on deaf ears

Underneath rubble of despair

Stench of destruction , sealed

Till inquisitive hands prise

Apart and display the prize

To God

Reviled  

Revealed 

Accursed 

Ill fated 

What an year

Mere misery 

The rains are late 

Fast losing the test 

Of our fate

Love and hate 

All bound 

To hound 

Desecrate 

You have for certain

Fled your temples 

Empty stones 

Roads ,ruins 

This is the end 

Goodbye my friend

Plague and war

You may applaud 

Or snigger

You reactions 

Go figure 

Meanwhile 

Black death

Chars the 

Noble earth

I don't miss

I don’t miss
the petrol fumes
the crowded rooms
I don’t miss
nosy women
gossipping
I don’t miss
needless shopping
endless driving
I don’t miss
rude cashiers
queues at counters
I don’t miss
rain lashing
headlamps flashing
I don’t miss
Dismal PTMs
Sweaty ATMs

Birdwatching 1

Of late , I am seeing more and more of birds . When I tell people , they think either I am hallucinating or I am making it up. Neither of which is true . I actually see them . 

It would be better to think philosophically , that I am destined to see them . Not others . Bad luck fellas . 

Today i saw a pair of brown headed barbets making a nest high up in the eucalyptus . It is a huge tree which hosts lots of these exotic birds , making it an exciting place . My kids are not very inclined to bird watching , but they do display occasional enthusiasm and are kind enough to tip toe quietly to see a flameback woodpecker look for grubs in the hollow of the eucalyptus , its red beret a red blur .

Yesterday was a lucky day. I saw two new species of birds . A group of three yellow footed green pigeons sailed across from a bottle brush tree across the street to settle on a dying mango tree. I could spot just one and see its head and characteristic yellow feet .the green of the body merged with the foliage . 

In the afternoon , when I went for some errand to the terrace I heard the lapwing (teetahari ) go ballistic on a small diminutive grey coloured bird . Even the mynahs were kicking up a ruckus , flying and screaming at and around the intruder.  The carriage of the bird was majestic and undettered , upright , unfazed by all the scandal its appearance had caused . I had to look up the google to identify it as one of the smallest predator birds , namely Shikra.

A stunted neem tree houses several deep craters in its trunk , each hole housed by a pair of spotted owlets who stare deeply into our souls , unblinkingly , whenever we choose to look their way . I met one of them at close quarters and it put on quite a display . Alternately , bowing and staring erect, all the while keeping on its unnervingly fixed gaze frozen on me . I later read that this was how they reacted when they feel threatened . 

Threatened , by me ? Whereas , here I am in awe of owls , googling my data away , my goosebumps rising at avian stares .  

 

Lockdown Nightmares

Through the night 

I fight 

No sleep , forget "tight"

a strange plight 

Dark , not light 

yet 

toss and turn 

breath burn(s) 

Thoughts churn 

mind is an urn 

swirling flashes 

grains , ashes 

dreams are weird 

nothing is lucid 

a new term coined 

lockdown , sanity locked 

and downed /drowned ? 

fear paralyses 

Like mid sleep terrors 

inept   crooners

Putting rest 

to severe test 

 

 

Dreams

Lately , the dreams are upsettingly strange and vivid .
I mostly dream in the wee hours of the morning , when you are awake and not quite so . For the past week , a peacock has taken its temporary perch on the branch of gigantic eucalyptus outside . At precisely 4 am every morning , it calls out to its kith and kin , and yells a full throated war cry to the reddening sky . It might be a” good morning ” too , in fowl-ese . I don’t know . It is loud , piercing , and like a streaming liquid , it enters my dreams , through the cracks in my consciousness , and manifests strangely there .
Once it became the blood -curdling yell of a cannibal . On an other occasion , it became the call for solidarity , a marching beat , for a higgledy piggledy group of ragged soldiers .

My dreams are often infiltrated by today’s insecurities . Of Covid 19 news and deaths , debates and projections , lockdowns and curfew , sirens and slamming of doors. We are traversing uncharted waters and sleep is hard to come by . Any hastily snatched nap has a definite element of a nightmare .
In my dreams , I have negotiated flooded forest floors , clad in a nightie , with an umbrella for companion .
My better half is faring no better . Yesterday , I caught him groaning in his afternoon nap .Wide awake , I waited for the groans to end .
They didnt. On the contrary , they became more persistent and loud . Alarmed , I shook him awake . He says he was chasing a pack of black dogs off the terrace . Then he turned to his side and resumed peaceful . unbroken snoring .