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?
***

Pull

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. 
***

Retired
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
Redirects 
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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