From my diary

It’s the sun that worries me, seduces me with its heat
Like you do with your promises that we can do anything.
I believe you just as I believe summer will come 
And kill the crocuses I have planted for you.
My knees are stretched taut, the skin on them shiny
As I sit with my legs tucked under me
Looking for rain in the wind-herded clouds.
I watch a green arm of the Meenachil
That flows so close to where my summer memories stay
And it reminds me that I have made promises to you
That I may never keep. 
I am that sung-about woman who takes
As if it is her right.
Men will give me anything, I need only ask;
Including their hearts, which I’d rather not take.
I wasn’t called butter fingers for nothing, growing up.

11 thoughts on “From my diary

  1. Gopikaa Ramanan

    “Men will give me anything, I need only ask;
    Including their hearts, which I'd rather not take.”
    – You just exactly said what men's hearts are and what women's minds are! A lovely poem! Cheers 🙂

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  2. Jyothi

    It feels raw, as if it gushed out of you without having to rethink or rewrite a single word. Beautiful!

    And that mention of Meenachil has me hurtling down the memory lane…feeling homesick now!

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  3. The Restless Quill

    Revs : 🙂 Thank you sweets.

    Suburban : You of all people should know. This could easily be written for someone like you 🙂 Love you tons! Muah

    Sunny Smile : You know, I had to tag it 'tongue-in-cheek' or it really would be missed. And that would start off a chain of explanations that I didn't want to engage in.

    Anne Kurian : Thanks, Anne 🙂 Good to see you on the blog.

    Roxana : And I love readers like you 🙂 Good to see you back. Where have you been?

    LEB : Nothing to be sorry about. I am just glad you took time to read it and think about it. Besides, poetry is like art, religion or underwear — deeply personal. However you understood it, that is exactly the right way of understanding it 🙂

    Gopikaa Ramanan : Welcome to the blog Gopikaa. So glad you liked it.

    Jyothi : You know, I barely lived anywhere there long enough to be as attached as I am but I adore that river. Such a lot going on around it. Welcome to the blog 🙂

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  4. The Ketchup Girl

    In 2001 we knew each other briefly. I picture u with Bangles, an occasional saree, bindi, dreamy, a fiery woman with a big wide smile. Then u left suddenly. And then wham u come back again, here, leaving me addicted to your writing. My husband's travelling and i'm not one bit sleepy. this is a treasure trove for my night time reading. fun. And i bet, u can't guess who i am and how i got here. 😀

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  5. The Restless Quill

    The Ketchup Girl: Welcome to the blog! Thank you for the lovely things you say, and the lovely memory you have of who I was :). I am glad you find my writing compelling 😀 Do let me know how you like the stuff that you read. And you're right — I can only place you as someone from Madras — either from my work in Student Concepts or from my hostel! I took a look at your picture and honestly don't know who you are. And I never forget a face. Hmmm. How you got here — I am thinking through twitter only. Otherwise no other way to know who I am.

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