I was trapped in my own car,
By this person I loved once,
People changes with time,
A time where nothing is permanent,
And everything seem conditional.

I was trapped in my own car,
I see this person I loved once turning into a monster,
Revealing a character I have never seen,
He changed from the person I fell for,
And so did my love.

I was trapped in my own car,
He jumped in my car and started driving,
Passing through scary drives which looked like a dream once,
Threatening to make me his,
With a plan to kidnap me in the name of eloping.

I was trapped in my own car,
He became violent seeing my resistance,
I choose to live with the stain of elopement,
Rather than being forced to love,
In the land of Manipur where eloping with or without consent seems to be a shortcut to marriage.

I was trapped in my own car,
He speeded the car as rescuers follows,
Even after being rescued I wasn’t able to step down as my clothes were ripped,
Covering myself with the “Phanek” (Sarong) the brave older lady gave,
I stepped down from the car with uncontrollable tears facing a crowd with judging looks.

Bringing Jasmine home

It’s time to say good bye,
We have gone through crazy phase,
Sitting in front of Moroccon restaurant,
Late night chattering in the quite neighborhood of Bethesda,
Cracking lobster near a beach.

It’s time to say good bye,
We have seen each other’s high,
Sharing moments of happiness,
As life brought additions in our life,
Making us smile and giving a new dimension of life.

It’s time to say good bye,
We have seen each other’s low,
Sharing moments of helplessness,
Sharing moments of silence,
As loss, pain and hospitals give a new meaning in our life.

It’s time to say good bye,
Holding on to a parting gift,
Bringing home Jasmine,
As the strings makes the most beautiful sound,
Telling us we will meet again.

The Three 100 Rs.

It was rainy season,
I had only a single pair of shoes,
Wearing the shoes out,
Walking through the winding road with slope,
The road filled with beautiful orange gul mohor petals fallen down,
To and fro from hostel to bus stop to college,
In a beautiful place call Banashankari.

One day it gave up beyond repair,
Opening once again like an alligator,
Speaking as fast as I could,
I told my mother I needed to get a new shoes,
There was silence in the other end,
And I had to keep the phone down as the LED display was nearing Rs.10.

Her silence meant a lot,
She must be thinking how she is going to send extra money,
When the funds are low,
When there are very few people to turn to borrow money,
When they openly comment of how tight their money is,
For they see her and think she will ask for money.

As though God read her mind,
She chanced upon this old man that day,
Who was enquiring about my studies,
The old man who has always been kind to us,
Giving his treasured crisp notes of three 100 Rs.
After learning about my shoes.

He left this world and I miss him,
But he stayed in my heart,
He was not related to me,
But bounded very closely by his love and humanity,
And I search for him in every old person I meet now,
Giving me a special bond with aging people.