We sit in your cool Delhi room,
The liberation songs of Marley,
Beating out truth… big, big bread,
Honesty, the open soul of friendship
And the simple clarity of naked talk.
Bono sends me ‘home again’,
With beedies and a beating expectation
Of more to come…
Journey from Delhi to Bombay.
Forgive me Gandhi, for my weakness
As I sit on the train from Delhi to Bombay
In what I think is first class…
Sipping Nestle coffee and being
Condescended to by the nose-ringed mothers of Brahmin.
I deserve no better.
We sit on Delhi mats
And pray to wash holy feet
And talk of grace, compassion and freedom.
Your 61 years of injustice
Informs my soul of good things
And stories of triumph in the face of adversity.
Our discussions go soul to soul
And bang out the goodness
From the ruins of our lives.
You are a brother
Who longs to live in peace…
Peace be upon us
As we struggle to be men.
Beedies perfume my room
With the rock and roll
Of life pounding on my door,
I am stripped bare on the floor
Of my soul
That tent of moral liquidity
And the raging demons of sexuality
In our solitude together
I know you more –
The knowledge that I am shadow
In the light of your gaze
And the jazz of your spirit
Dancing lightly upon my face.
In the smells of Delhi
Touching the broken and forgotten
I am instructed to be
The tears that wash the dirt
From the bleeding abscesses of hate.