Poetry: Carol D’Souza

Carol D’Souza
February evening

You step out on a mid-week February evening
For a moment, the light catches the shoulders 
of the city so familiarly, you know love is not a 
myth. Two women with 
a decade dozing between 
them chat their way up a street as a God in a 
corner alcove is surprised into attention by a 
passer-by accosting Her with a prayer at dusk.

This prayer made stone

In the shade of the Jama Masjid
she and I sit under an awning, gazing.
The transient, milling crowd 
throws into relief the mosque's 
timeless, majestic bearing.

Hiccupping history

Muslim. Islam. Mughal
Rahim. Ram. Ghazal
Lahore and Dilli
Across two recent books, a
newspaper column and a 
poetry reading, they pursue me
What are they whispering?


I am no longer tethered to its vicissitudes 
And yet, the wax and wane of your mood
brightens and darkens, in turn, a sliver
of my day still held in sway
of its receding pull. 

for Garima

On a mild November day
A defunct bus stop vacantly stares 
out. A commuter wanders in 
by mistake. In surprised haste it stashes 
away listlessness. Arranges face
them. Then 
slumps back again.

Bio: Carol D'Souza is a writer and translator based in Chennai, India. A collection of her work can be found at linktr.ee/cblaizd

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