Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Happy Birthday, Blog

Hello there. The blog turns a year old today, and I thought I’d just write to you, and thank you for coming here every once in a while. You keep this blog alive. You complete the loop of which I’m only a part.

I hope you enjoy reading this blog. You know you can tell me what you like and what you don’t, by way of a comment/ email/ facebook message. Please feel free. I’m very interested in knowing what you think.

Here’s something I have for you. So, several months ago, I read this lovely, lovely story by Molly Giles. It’s called Pie Dance. If I know you really well, I must have already made you read it. If not, then here’s a podcast   http://castroller.com/Podcasts/PriSelectedShorts/2270403  . There are three stories being read one after the other, and the one I’m talking about comes at 38:22. I couldn’t find a written version, so you’d have to do with this. Or do you like podcasts better? Then we’re good. Me? I don’t know, I’m just a little old fashioned I think.

So that’s all I have to say for now. Do come back later this week to check out the new poem/story.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Band Aid for the Soul

I can deal with my bag,
Thank you.
The man at the gate looks at me.

I’m wearing earrings that
Two of my exes,
Were somewhat fond of.

My sweater,
Is a little too big.
It insists on resting off
My left shoulder.
I don’t mind.
I’ve never had an issue with my shoulders.

Let’s see what we have here,
Pink walls,
Overflowing ashtrays,
A cloying room freshener.

The woman at the reception is distracted.
She doesn’t pay attention
When I tell her
That I have a room booked in my name.
She keeps looking at the door
Which keeps swinging from my entry.

Guessing her perplexity,
 I say, I’m by myself.
Oh, she says.
She looks at me,
At my earrings,
And finds her answer in the band aid that
My sweater has decided to reveal.
She furrows her brow a little.
I practice my smile on her.
© Rasagya Kabra, January 25, 2012
एक अजनबी झोंके ने जब
पूछा मेरे ग़म का सबब,
सेहरा की भीगी
रेत पर,
मैंने लिखा
~ Ghulam Ali 

Saturday, January 7, 2012


Street lights,
Sleepy from fighting the fog.

A road
That winds and winds,
Like a serpent,
Each stretch merging into the previous,
Becoming indistinct.

A strange writing on milestones,
That vanishes
Upon nearing.

Amongst these,
A gust of cold wind
That meets hot, coffee laden breath
And sends down a shiver.

©Rasagya Kabra, January 7, 2012