democracy in india (in cinema theatres)

no need to stand up
enjoy your pop corn and watch
swacch bharath promos

hanging together

pastel shades, and nude and neon
tiger stripes and polka dots
pitch black, pure white
logos, letters, hearts
ankle length, knee length and somewhere in between
padded and not, maybe an underwire
bikini, boy shorts, boxers,
all fluttering about gently in the breeze
content in their little spaces
but often nudging one another
swaying to the sound of the birds
intertwining briefly
as if playing Chinese Whispers
giggling at the gaffes, teasing, mocking
smelling more like rain as they dry out

hanging together

unhurried

enjoying their time out in the sun

such a pretty sight
the clothes line

that right shade of grey

i wish i could draw
and colour and paint
the pictures i see so clearly in my head
because sometimes, words fail me

pictures of you, me, them, and others

in different postures of agony and upset
and happiness, too, at times

set in different shades of blue from aquamarine to navy
and yellows from lemon to ochre

climbing tall, rocky mountains
and relaxing in calm, serene valleys

listening to mozart, at times
and then to linkin park

i see the faces, the expressions, the body language
but i can't write them down so well
because my words appear to show two ends of the spectrum
creating a dichotomy, splitting inherent connects
and only showing black and white

yes, i wish i could draw
and colour and paint
because black and white blend so well
on a palette, but not on paper

and that right shade of grey is all i need sometimes
to make sense of my life