(published at
http://magazine.crimsonfeet.org)
Naseer speaks with power, Amitabh adds
dignity
And oddball Om splashes a dash of affection
Knitted foreheads, twinkles in the eye
And then pockmarks that show perfection.
Preity’s dimples, and Dimple’s pains
Borne with strength, enhanced
Zahida’s hidden anger, Tabu’s playful
postures
Unintended beauty makes the trance
In the black and white memories of years
gone by
I see Balraj twitching, Guru Dutt yearning
Dilip strutting, and Dev dismissive
Strong souls, weak hearts—all in churning
Seductive gaits, eccentric traits
Madhubala’s antics, recalled in anxiety
Meena’s tears, self-indulgent.
Clay feet show beneath my Deities.
One movie I saw, on the first day of college
Another on the last day of school
And do you recall the other one? Oh I forget
its name!
But it did rain that day, and the scenes
made me drool.
Amid the celluloid visions, and dark
theatres
There were aunts and uncles,. And exams.
Dancing hormones, youthful skins
Cute little babies in neighbour’s prams
When years grow old and fans stay young
Will Akshay and Salman render sweet pain?
Can
Kajol be an old man’s consort?
Can Shah Rukh show sunshine in rain?
Is it us, or is it them? Or is it
The design that time weaves?
Is it spring that magic brings,
Life
Eternal, or autumn leaves?