"When ... "

Today is Tuesday, which means two prompts.

First prompt: Write a love poem.

Second prompt: Write an anti-love poem.

Simple as that.

When

Your silence ceases to jar
Is like a melody heard in dreams
Or a new raga sung differently each day
And I am detached.
Won’t you then look for me?

When

I create a poem or an embroidered motif
Not in anxious search of your ‘regard’
But only driven by the need to create
And I am still.
Won’t you then look for me?

When

I see an old man hobble to the temple tree
Gather creamy white blossoms for his puja.
A child pours his offerings into his palm
And I am touched.
Won’t you then look for me?

When

I see an old woman with arthritic fingers
Knit a sweater with coarse wool. Baggy.
Her grandchild wears it and says, ‘Trendy!’
And I am glad.
Won’t you then look for me?

When

I see Ashoka trees from my window
Upright, clothed in leafy clinging skirts.
My spirit soars with their upward thrust
And I am thrilled.
Won’t you then look for me?

When

Vacantly, I look at the dark dark sky
Merge with the dark dark sea
The waves hurtle, lose force, bathe my feet
And I am unstirred.
Won’t you then look for me?

When

I renounce even this need
That you look for me
Turn away from the drumbeats of your silence
Give a deaf ear to the din of my own words
Who will you find
if you come look for me?