The schedule of the day,
at home in the mornings
outings in the evenings
a contradiction of the regular,
is how I live in this alien land.
I should not say alien anymore
as I live half the year or even excess
in this country for over a decade.
Of late, rains come at dusk
play spoil sport to my walks.
They pour with force terrible,
last for an hour or more,
light recedes and it is night.
I dare not go out in dark
there is widespread theft.
The whole day for a week
I stay at home behind locked doors.
The windows, with grills and heavy curtains,
allow me to peep through and perceive
the outer world. I hear the noise of vehicles.
My neighbours cast a curious look
when I get into the garden to pluck
curry leaves and pick the milk can.
No wonder I am at home wherever
I go. More so in the literal sense.
Meenas Poems 