THE FOLLOWING POEM WAS SELECTED IN WINGWORD POETRY PRIZE 2023 LONGLIST.
And I no longer look for you.
I no longer look for you in form,
with your white walls coated
in a fading paint of green,
or linens hanging on windows
that let the sunlight seep in.
And I no longer look for you,
in the alleys of restaurants and bars;
in the old buildings,
and the million stories that live within,
or the one's outside,
flashing past me on this river
of concrete.
and I never looked for you in churches,
in temples, in mosques,
in idols, or the images of the gods
and I no longer look for you in shapes -
in flights, in cars, in bikes
arriving and leaving from the coffee shops,
and I no longer look for you there,
when I hear her sing
nor when she leaves,
and the air is vacant for a moment,
till a new voice fills,
and even in that moment vacant -
I do not look for you.
I do not imagine you as I wake,
I do not remember you as I sleep,
I do not recall you in my dreams -
I do not dream of you, and if I do,
I remind myself that you are a dream,
and as
I no longer look for you,
the winds bring you to me -
and I find you in the whiff off an idli
from a roadside store,
and I find you in the scent
a story flashing past me wore,
and I find you
when the earth smells of the earth,
and I find you
when someone laughs a little hoarse.
And as I no longer look for you
in shapes or in forms,
I find you,
and I smile at the thought of knowing home.