Faculty of Arts

their art came undone
and returned to their origin

in strokes and lashes

(when the cast came off)

her art hit a pebble on the ground
where she waited
two years to place the pen
on a paper, again

his art was rolled into a stick
from which Shiva formed in fumes

he handed me a music
to be held close to the ears
and be wound
until all else healed

Then art came down in drops
and somewhere in between
they wrapped another canvas round my feet  
where an anklet would have made sense


It came home with mud-prints from the rain.
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In a university portico the singing crowd is the one waiting for the rains to stop. That's their story. But long after the rains stop, even years later, they would still be sitting there, passing the last cigarette and strumming their monsoon melodies. From Presidency's 'priya cafe' to Delhi University's 'kariye na', this evening was such a time-machine!