Ghazal 607
by Monica Mody
[ poetry - march 08 ]
For the men of Jangpura
Of five advantageous shops I was the lord, like this.
Now idleness is all I can afford, like this.
If I could tie the sky in plastic bags for my son,
the kites I did not buy for him would've soared like this.
Skull caps my sis knitted, cycle rides, looh winds that did
not catch us: these are the memories I hoard like this.
Planted vermilion hawk-eyed gods in every altar;
my young restlessness I forgot or ignored like this.
In our colony, in my timid shirt, who would have
guessed? It is the scent of a man I adored, like this.
Every day on the nullah, courting with a song, a risk,
a craft - I married the woman I scored like this.
I'm a good man, hard working man, house dreaming
buying TV man. Sometimes my Mrs gets gored like this.
Whenever I laid down her acceptable limits, to
revoke me Monica showed up and roared like this.
