Archive for August, 2014


Charlotte Cuevas

You were dying when you found me-
how’d you even find me?
You were dying when I bought that leather jacket.

You knew you were searching,
you warned me yourself,
came shopping for me when I was shopping, too.

What could I have done to heal you?
Did you think I’d had that jacket my whole life?

I had barely clipped the price tag off
when you wandered in and took me for
somebody who could love you back to life.

By now I guess you figured how to resurrect yourself-
I don’t even have that jacket anymore-
but the closet, the closet remembers the stench
of the dying you brought with you.

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Ashish Shakya

(Note: This was part of the HT Brunch cover story for 3rd August 2014. You can read the shorter print version here.)

“I cried because my 3G was down, until I met a man who had no smartphone.” – Rumi

The internet is arguably the greatest invention of the 21st century, second only to the polio vaccine and the cyborg that assumed the form of Mick Jagger many years ago. Like the best drugs in the world, it offers escape in enslavement and we’re only too happy to roll up our sleeves for the friendly neighbourhood wi-fi dealer. The sensory overload it offers is eclectic, to say the least. On the one hand, it allows us to obsess over a cancer-stricken chemistry teacher who joins an ad agency in the ‘60s so that he can drink Scotch all day and bide his time, before marching through an expanse of undulating…

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The Path

The Path

The Path

I see the path that lies in front of me,

Messed up and left out you seem to be,
Intimidating everyone goes by singing,
Something about you just is amusing,
Subtle and quick is such the path of life.

You came over to watch beside me,
Ought to be the one I yelled out to thee,
Unintentionally hurt you or so it you seem,

Broken and rejected you leave me to scream,
Another day passes by and I still linger,
Drenched and lonely the path I still monitor.

In the midst of world crossing over,
Tired and mystified some fell under.

Hope diminishing I’m still the same kid,
Underwhelmed your change was rapid
Relentlessly I still stood as the light grew dark,
Tedious it was but fun it used to be I recollect,
Something changed and it wasn’t me that left.

The race

Caricatures of life

It was a race,
Both were running,
Time was ahead
And he was behind.

They ran in rain,
In the crowded street,
Through mountains,
But he did not see.

They loved him,
They cheered him,
They prayed for him,
But he did not realize.

Then he beat time,
And won the race.
He jumped in joy
Alone in a desert.

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