Shots in Delhi

Unknown to the world’s pleasures, like sex and vodka. 

In the middle of some tittle-tattle, while swinging in Delhi
and walking hand-in-hand all summer, caring for nothing.
Then Rohini waved in pain as I took a bus in new direction.
I cried tears of lead over our separation. I knew it was love.
But then Pitampura embraced me when I was just three.


Through straight-cut roads, higher than the tallest tree,
metro helped me date both without any voodoo-totka.
I soon met Dadri, but she had to look for another’s love
as her midnight touch couldn’t stop me romancing Delhi.
Yet her small hands still write to me about wider directions
asking when calm skies break loose, how can I do nothing?


Rape, Oppression, Tyranny! Government’s doing nothing?
Samrat, Jayaprakash & Misra have a yantra. Join the three
for it’s time to raise your placards in Jantar Mantar’s direction.
Brave the sun, hold the moon! Stop wallowing in rivers of vodka.
No time to rest, come protest at the Ramlila Grounds in Delhi.
Don’t just read the daily news! Come, be the news my love.


I think, “Jon-Ygritte would have a made a better love
story” “I disagree” he said bluntly. “You know nothing,
Jon Snow” she whispered in the ear of a stranger in Delhi.
Then she turned to the counter and asked for round three.
Paharganj winked, ‘Dirtier the girl, neater is her vodka’.
It made some wonder if she is headed in a bad direction.


While Qutub saw him drive in Tamarind Court’s direction.
When it struck twelve, they had already run out of love.
It was nearly time, yet he asked for a few shots of vodka.
And took out his gun, when the barmaid served nothing.
Charge sheets of the murder were filed on August three
while Lady Justice re-adjusted her blindfold in Delhi.


But there is more than ego, in every neighbourhood Deli.
After wall climbing or shopping, we resign from direct action
and start a selfie spree before splitting the food bill in three.
Diving from makeup to literature, from breakup to first love.
School. Clothes. Career. Dreams! Our gabfest misses nothing.
Hauz Khas watches laughter blossom in neat shots of vodka.


Three hundred inhibitions and one gulp of vodka.
Driving in India Gate’s direction, I blamed nothing.
Delhi is not my dream. It’s another word for love.



(Theme: City, Form: Sestina)