Huntington Road, Cambridge

Sometimes,
In the intimidating proximity of shadows
You want to retreat
Into the very sensations of the body
From where you wish to escape,

But the vanishing road escarpment,
The artifice of colonial history,
Leaves you somewhat disembodied
And agitated
By the spirit of things to come.

August 1997, Cambridge

The Chuo Line

This is the morning rush hour
On the Chuo rapid to Tokyo,
Men are holding their jackets or
Have folded them over their satchels
In their lap and gone to sleep;
Women are not far behind.

As the hot air from the radiator
Warm their thighs and bottoms
Some women lose their modesty and
Go to sleep with bedroom abandon;
Men reading folded newspapers
Take an occasional peep.

Squat houses whiz by outside,
Bicycle stands appear and disappear;
An entire metropolitan geography opens
In the somewhat muggy morning
Made muggier by packed commuters
And sudden lurches and jerks.

High school girls in sailor uniforms
In triple folded skirts at the waist
Show their pudgy cream thighs
As they stand eating breakfast,
While boys push down their trousers
Holding them by their buttocks.

There is pin drop silence except
For the periodic cackle of the PA system,
Or the hydraulic hiss of
Opening and closing doors.
Stations arrive and go by
As if in a fantasy or a dream.

The train whistles by with
So much of self involvement,
An occasional foreigner like me
Tries to behave as any other local
But what a waste of effort:
They eye me furtively when I doze.

February 2006, Hachioji

Alone

The Gangotri glacier throbs beneath,
My feet, deep and voluminous,
Twisting old mysteries into life.

Huge chunks of ice growl
From below its huge caverns
Feeding a wish-fulfilling Gomukh.

A throbbing silence penetrates
Time without beginning and
Echoes incomprehensible eternity.

Reflected in Tapovan’s emerald blue waters
The caves of Indian hermits are now quiet
As thoughts of some rarified beings

The terra firma, more like a lunar world,
Shapes strange images of the unfamiliar,
Overwhelming the senses.

Crowned with sharp white snow
Shivling’s bewitching divinity lingers
In a translucent darkness

If you were to wait here any longer
You might lose the desire
For human company altogether.

Takiyama Mountains

The night breathes quietly
The Takiyama Mountains
Elbow a hush
Into the valley below
Crickets chirp
A rising colonnade of history
The impenetrable castle
A powerful daimyo
Pushing for control
The Honmaru embankment
Still holding together

Thoughts get startled
By the zoom of a scooter,
The thud of an object,
In the apartment building
Across the road
The thump of a door,
Somewhere
In the neighborhood,
An accelerating car
Jumping a traffic light
Near the Hiyodoriama Tunnel

The Orion constellation
Light up the sumi-colored night
And there is a distinct
Smell of perfume that
I can recognize
As the door of a car closes
With a thump and then the
Cloperty clop clop
Cloperty clop clop
Of a woman in high heels
Put me to sleep

A Coffee Shop

An old style French coffee shop
Wafting warm coffee smell
In a light drizzle,
A soft piano music
Quiet between an occasional
Clutter of cups,
Chopping of salad,
A brief conversation
A pretty waitress
In white and crimson dress
A drizzle of piano music
And nothing else to do,
No hurry,
Just a quiet reflection
Unwinding itself