when the foreign-body craves the monsoon
when the syllables pass by and fade, perfumed elaichi on the tongue; stay
when the boys laugh bitter as mithai; তুমি বলবে “mithai” কথা।
when the language is poured into the streets of “Daka”; stay –
eavesdrop when they track behind you in the snow
when you pass a boy packed into a puffer jacket; stay
under his hood, you’ll see the sheen of his mother’s orna
you’ll see in his eye an icy, star-shaped lament (stay)
as the azaan shimmers between countries, between lifetimes
between the sequins left behind your garish lehenga
when your eight year-old voice pulls on the partition (stay)
as you weave a tale of a girl who becomes a dust storm (stay, stay)
sing শুকনো পাতার , as your anklets chain you to the stage
under the spotlight— (stay) sounds caught in your mouth, (stay)
as shadows seize your body (stay, stay, stay)
as the mic feedback rips through the crowd
& as his jacket floats away.
twenty now, you feel his pulse
when you remember section 377
—সবাই কী বলবে ? “what will others say?”
when the twilight bestows himself deathless upon the city; stay –
when the foreign-body craves the monsoon
stay in the eye of the hurricane, ____ !
stay here;
in the center & silence of redefinition.
