My Happy Place

We all look for it

A proverbial ‘happy place’

A place where

One can be oneself

One can find yourself

One learns to look

At self and world differently

In the life’s roller coaster ride

There is always one place, one city

Where you know

You are safe

Not just because of people

But in spite of people

You step out

And the breeze simply seems

To blow to carry away your worries

Making breathing easy 

The green canopies and flowering trees

Waft of filter coffees and dosas, 

The flower fragrances 

Aromatically you are home too

You may not have roots here

But it lets you grow and rediscover 

Your own forgotten self and dreams

Though the traffic is traumatic

It soothes your trauma

Bangalore, what else do I say?

I literally got my second life here

After that near fatal accident

The neurologist too humoured me

With a local humour which is mild and raw

But punches do land

No wonder stand ups thrive here

The city where startups are often born to die

In a shortest span of time

People know how to pick themselves

Where uber drivers too have tales

Of bad investments and losses

You taught me to pick myself up too

Many years ago and later now

I find my broken self here in the bookshops

In science spaces and conversations

Where people still assert

While respecting boundaries

They listen, they let you have the mic

This city feels like my happy place

I can be anyone here

Educator, poet, archivist, traveller

Storyteller, photographer, reader, writer

And be them all at once too

Mankind consists of all kinds

But I always find more of my kind

In this good old charming city

(Which is fast losing its charms)

To which I keep returning to

With my scars and bruises

To my utter surprise

People call me a healer 

That’s how we just heal each other

With conversations over cuppas

Of filter coffees or walks

Undramatically, unknowingly

A calm city which is no hurry

To be smart, fast or the best

Maybe hostile and unwelcoming to some

But then we all need to

Find our happy and safe space

Which lets us be…our unapologetic self

MK

Killings

Senseless violent killings

Never make sense

More so

Killing of young children

They don’t deserve

To be targets

In a failed world

With failed morals

They don’t

Need to die

During morning prayers

For our failings

To build a safe world

Senseless violent killings

Of young children anywhere

Doesn’t make sense

Far too many children

In far too many countries

Are laying their lives

For humanity’s moral decadence

Be it in Gaza, Ukraine or US itself

The more weapons you build

The more innocents will die

Why do you wish to rule

Over corpses and graves?

What will grow there?

Your riches are scarred

And tainted with bloodbaths

We have scarred children

Who grow up as adults

To kill more children

Vicious cycles of deaths

They are on you

Though you have

Traded your conscience

To guns and drones lobby

And your religion too

How many more small graves

Need to be dug?

Don’t you realise

You are ending your line

The line of inheritance

Riches and homes

Build over little graves

Will never last

Should not last

Whose War?

War has become an orphan

No one owns it anymore

There are no clear sides

Everyone just collectively

Decides to be silent

Children are killed

Buildings are razed

Drones are dropped

Media says and shows it all

Except who are the perpetrators

And who are the victims

There were grand wars

Once upon a time

Fought for justice, power

And similar thuggery

There were heroic warriors

Grand Manhattan project

Even Nuclear bomb

Had a purpose

Now there are drones

Flying with precision

Targetting journalists

Activists, hospitals

Everyone is vulnerable

No one wants to own a war

No one marches with conviction

Cowardice is abundant

They kill the unarmed

They target civilians

Throwing away all rule books

Treaties and peace talks of earlier wars

Ammunition and weapons?

Suppliers perhaps are the same

To both the sides

Absolutely fair in their

Dealings and trade

Who killed whom for what?

Please don’t ask

It’s a catch 22 trap

War is good for the economy

After all 

It is all collateral damage

For greater good

Whose greater good and for what?

Ah! Don’t ask

Along with war

Goodness, kindness

Have become orphaned too

After poisoning the soil and soul

We sow and reap only hate

Love too has become an orphan

With no grave or tombstone

War has become an orphan

Idiot

Idiot!

They laughed

When she looked at the horizon

No one knew

She could see that

Sky never kissed the earth

They laughed

When she looked up at the sky

Idiot!

No one knew she looked into the infinite space

Seeking…

They mocked

When she kissed a youth

What would an idiot know about love?

No one knew

That she had kissed Life

And paid her compliments

For being alive,

For being able to laugh and cry

For being able to love

Written in 2000 after watching Gelsomina in Fellini’s La Strada