Family

Family

I don't know how families 

Are made

Mine were always 

A little Transient. 

I have learned 

To hold no one 

Or nothing close. 

This is not a 

Sad thing, 

I want you to know. 

I think families 

Are made

From light gossip,

Uno cards

And angry affection. 

I am learning

How families are made. 

Today, though

All I know

Is, My Bua

Is the best cook

In the world 

And I'm loved,

loved,loved. 

Is this how 

Families are made? 

Bloodline - Day 20

Bloodline

My father warns

Me, my bloodline

Carries terrors. 

Not the sweet,

Forgetful terrors 

Of my mother's blood. 

Something sharper ,

Hotter, Obstinate,

Undeniable. 

It's what makes 

My anger flame

Up; Unrecognisable

Until I look back 

On 7 generations

Of men with

The same stubborn 

Pride,

Lurking in their eyes. 

I see

No women. 

Their stories weren't 

Passed down to me. 

We hadn't taken

Language yet. 

I want to know 

I'll pass these terrors

To my daughter. 

Like my father

Passed to me.

You see,

We have language now.  

Indifference - NaPoWriMo2017 #19

Indifference

I spent 

The last few days 

With streaming eyes 

And a blocked up nose,

As if Delhi

Was punishing me

For daring 

To love anyone

Else. 

But, Delhi

Is not 

A jealous lover 

She couldn't care less

If you left her

And never looked back. 

It hurts more. 

I never did well

With indifference. 

Divided - NaPoWriMo2017 #18

Divided 

I wanted to write

Something cheerful 

About my expat, 

Immigrant,

Student life. 

I wanted to celebrate

Open borders, 

The world on a plate, 

Belonging,

Everywhere.

There are already 

Many pulled-in-half

Immigrant stories. 

So I wanted, 

Something different. 

Instead my ink writes

About being 

A wanderer

In a world (s)

That has grown

To resent them.

More - NaPoWriMo2017 #17

More

My Gemini heart

Has always 

Chased the end

Of rainbows.

Firmly sure

There is something

More, 

To life

Than this. 

I'm the patron saint

Of More, Better, Newer. 

Of fresh starts

And greener grass. 

You would think

This poem would be

About loving contentment

In the end. 

Instead, I'm promising

A pot of gold

At the end 

Of the rainbow

There, where

The grass is greener. 

Constant - NaPoWriMo2017 #16

Constant

After, 

12 years,

11 schools

3 universities 

2 countries

You are still the constant 

In my flavoured vodka toasts. 

The only real constant

For a dozen straight years

I have ever known. 

Not even family can bear

That epithet. 

I can't imagine life, 

Without you

And I once said 

I'd prefer to 'survive' nuclear war

All alone then not at all.

It makes sense, finally-

You being older

By 10 days. 

Compulsion - NaPoWriMo2017 #15

Compulsion

Delhi, my first, 

My best love.

Delhi, angry

And burning

And dangerous. 

Delhi, breaking

My heart

If nothing else. 

Pulling me back

Always and forever.

I have given my heart

On four continents

Yet, Delhi, 

The first, the last. 

Delhi; Sheesha, Vodka

And more

Beneath my skin. 

Delhi, compelling

And complete.

When you finally

Crack me open,

Delhi,

I'd want you

To find yourself.