And they had been captured. The coral, the ashtray and the plate of marble. Smooth and rough, light and shade, textures and colours playing off each other. A button pressed, a photograph taken. She had wondered about them for a while, putting them in place. Clean lines, contrasting shapes; chaste, almost virginal appearances. Quite like her beloved. One who had been able to slice so perfectly and delicately through bread, chicken, tomatoes and her.

Parricide: A memoir

(Reflections on I, Pierre Rivière having slaughtered my mother, my sister, and my brother...)

A body
Its flesh spread
In foetal curled
Small incisions
I begin to make

Slivers of skin
Coloured red
With salt water
Slide across the floor

The mass that
Tries to scream
Throw throw throw
Baby and bathwater

The knife plunges
Again
It is no sword
I use it to cut bread

Bread you demand
I bake, I serve
The calendar
Today purpled

You thought it
My birthday
My gift -
My freedom
Your life.

this is where
i feel inadequate
here just here

self indulgent
a violin bow
wrapped
in velvet
a china doll
layered
in plastic
editorial sanctions comma no black ink
clean copies
washed by the machine
artists oil colours
not less but more

i did not
dance sing shout drink mingle join
i do not
remember
the mouth
that touched
the hands
my aching breasts
lines of love
i do not know
where i draw
your shape
mine
quotations
that never cease
utterances they
become
i think
the dankness
of the room
does not
stop

the open door paralyses

"Even the Rain"

I started to smile, and then the dust came

settling, settling; covering even the rain.

pink, mauve, red I had, control them I did

but they played, colouring even the rain.

a july bride you wanted, framed I stood

for a sari wearing even the rain.

me you demanded, shatter me you would

let it come I cried; ring even the rain.

a pen brings no relief, Vebhuti said,

Shahid replied ink will bring even the rain.

"Jungle of Words"

one tugged at one strand
the other at another
whisper they did to me
about their roots

i called out to them
to sort
to divide
to mark

and
gleefully they laughed
mockingly cried
so you too draw

boxes in boxes
shadows and shapes
you dare order
and prevent play

doll doll doll
do you say i
or name
without us

screech
tumble
slide
glide

did they
and i unable
to hold
to stand

joined their play
you abandoned me
i hold them now
and they me

The poem below, "Courtly Love" was jointly written by Akhil Katyal and Vebhuti.

Courtly Love

Polite mannerisms

Praises of the lady,

or man.

Mangoes, mushrooms, chocolate

Puzzles he gave me,

These were poetry.

A fiddle struck,

Blood-red oranges sucked,

Idle words read by you,

They became poetry.