The shopping list gets longer, Kerrygold butter Tayto Antisceptic wipes Immodium tablets Lice combs Mosquito repellent spray Toilet roll Calpol Cases full of a chemical overload, We think about What we won't have there When we arrive, A city polluted in a sensory overload, A carousel of sights and sounds Bombarding our fragile frames, An array of colours That will indulge our souls, Weeping children begging For a few ruppees, The incessant noise Of motor engines and voices Reverberating, A kaleidescope of people Crashing past our window pane In rush hour traffic, These are the things Which are not on our list, Over packed suitcases Bulging with anticipation, We try to hold onto what Makes us safe, Oversized baggage disappearing On the conveyor belt, We walk through the departure lounge And make another list Of all the things we want to see, The Taj Mahal, Jaipur, The Red Fort, The national railway museum in New Delhi, The list gets longer, A sensory overload Waiting for us to indulge our curiosity, Our new home beckons As we travel east.
First Impressions - New Delhi
Lush green trees, verdant and ever green, Virgin leaves glittering in the Monsoon dew, Large drops blurring the window pane, We drive through wide avenues In the diplomatic enclave, Green and yellow tuk tuks weaving In and out of traffic, The rawness of life stationed at every corner, Taxis and ubers vying for space, Screeches to a halt As an officer raises his hand, Stopping and starting, Unprepared for The slow crawl and angry fists, We glimpse snatches of Indian life Played out along the roadside, A barber gliding a razor over A foam lathered face in his mobile stall, Unbeaten souls refusing to go away, Refusing to disappear and be forgotten.
Dragonflies
An empty space The size of a ballroom The scent of polished Marble floors Lingers in each room Ready to embrace A new family Books stacked against The window ledge A carousel of dragonflies Hovering in mid air I sit by the window And watch The woman in her sari Taking away black bags of rubbish Gold bangles dangling from her wrist The iron man pressing clothes Under a tree I watch as layers of my life Peel away And follow the bicycle Carrying boxes of candy Winding down the road This is my new home Empty and full of promise The laughter of children Echoing in another room I watch the dragonflies Caught between the leafy branches An arabesque pose Trapped in mid air I watch in silence As they shimmer In the midday sun The monsoon Coming to an end As I sit in my new empty home Unburdened by the past.
Grounded
It must have been the death star I saw on the way to the airport a slight ripple on the Saturn moon a small halo of light shimmering through the dense fog we sat on the runway for hours, going nowhere.
New Beginnings
It's time for me to say goodbye and listen to my heart the paper mache stars shimmer under a hail of fireworks celebrating the end of another year it's time to say goodbye and see the flickering light glistening in the sky shedding all the dead skin from my body, in this new place I have flourished, our parting is not the end but a new beginning for me to grasp.
Independence
They twist the strings Around their thin small arms, On a busy junction, Paper kites tangled In electric wires, Caught between the poles, They dangle in the evening sun Huddled together In this makeshift hamlet, Giggling against The newly painted wall, Designed to keep them Off the road, Unravelling their kites They nestle in between The mounds of rubble Subsisting on scraps, Their humble homes Visible to the passing cars, Women in colourful saris Selling flags, Their husbands sharing stories With their neighbours, Lounge On an old corrugated steel roof, Oblivious to paper kites Gliding above their heads, A carousel of pastel colours Spanning the skies.
Bunnacurry Poet 