Reading Aloud

Reading it aloud:
You
Your whims, your hormonal rants,
The part where you sneeze
The moment you finally cry
I read it all out, your eyes open
Like two journals on either side of your age
With you in the centre, present in the present
Mute as a photo
Out of focus

Your nights
Your breath
The bits of you leftover
In text messages and friends of friends
Even music you forgot
Comes around unasked
The wall holds your face
As you fall asleep scarred
Read it all aloud, like a play
We’re listening to each other age
The clock waits for you
The taxi drops it’s meter, the new year
Opens and calls for an encore

The Story of Seasoned Aromas

simmering gravy, aroma enhanced
by fresh curry leaves
the kitchen inhaled and exhaled your art
the shelves crammed with secrets
a window spectating throughout

others strayed into writing
papers for others, signing
cheques and electronic letters
filling their time in this world
with unimportant meetings with
people who didn’t matter, catching
trains and planes
ending up nowhere in particular
you chose to open a jar

and another one, placing
spices on your palm like gems
carelessly drifting into the history
of a country, through its cookery
plotting trade routes and invasions
through narratives formed in your vessels
you even met emperors and paupers
and critics and caste-formers
at the end of it all, you even left
god behind in the past, serving
us, everytime
a different ancestral creation
others aged around you and withered
but you somehow remained, both
young and ancient