Eternal Sunshine of the spotless mind

His and hers

A bigger face
A bigger strap
a smaller face
a smaller strap
For thick muscular hands
for thin slender arms
They said its god-given
Big things for man
small things for woman
Titan had wrapped them up
With velvetty cloth
perfect wedding gifts
His and hers

A bigger hand
Harder slap
leaving bluish purple marks
You get accustomed to.

Slender hands
To be wrung about helplessly
To welcome
a burn here, a cut there
As one her kind
Should get accustomed to.

And all these came
Packed in a golden box with velvet inside
The sturdy-ness of his, the softness of hers
God-given
Wrapped in skin and bones
Perfect gifts
for Humankind

Green and yellow buses

With bloodshot eyes
he rubbed wildly against
the shoulders of an old lady
with a hollow cough
bend with age
Oblivious of me and the crowd
collected together into a sweaty mass
in those green and yellow buses
with a uniform thought of reaching a warm home


I smirked, I stared
He went on his singular mission
suppressing his animal grunts.
The bus screeched to a stop
A bunch of fragrant white flowers
Undone from the lady’s coiled grey bun
Lie trampled by innumerable feet
He broke into a lazy smile
Watching the world
Through a dirty panel of glass
Streaked with vomit
And ancient spat of betel nut juice
Extracted by tired mechanical jaws

I took home
A repulsive feeling of disgust
And bathe for an hour
Willing the crystal water
To cleanse those dirty window panes.