3 min read


Ladies Only


I am pressed between 

bodies, mostly bigger 

and taller and less 

fashionable, but yet, 

they all possess some 

real heft. The push and 

pull of a train charting 

the same course every 

day, the curve as it crosses 

from Gurgaon, to Delhi, 

to actually Delhi, the way 

we all move together, 

even in the non-ladies 

coaches, where bodies 

shouldn’t touch, but 

inevitably, we are all

one mass, baby birds in a 

tree trunk, waiting to 

fly into fresh air. She 

nudges me, in this 

sea of shoulders only, 

I can’t even turn to 

see her face, but I hear 

her, the whisper near 

my cheek, excuse me, 

a breathless pause, 

you look beautiful, 

delivered so softly, 

the compliment lingers

in our lower airspace. 

The men around us, 

bodies on bodies, 

too far to hear her 

kindness, or to see

the blush I offer back. 

Even flirting in the 

Delhi metro is segregated:

my smile, ladies only. 



Love Keeps Finding Me

Love, unable to fit through

the window I left cracked open, 

takes up residence on my front porch. 

I shimmy past it in the morning, 

we exchange awkward hello’s. I avoid 

looking into its earnest eyes, don’t 

hold its outstretched hands. 

Can’t the anvil of domesticity 

hit someone else? My skull, still 

bent from the last round, the crack 

of your goodbye, echoing through 

my bedroom walls. I can’t love 

again, not yet. Can’t steal joy from 

a new body, not the way I grabbed it 

from your hand. When I knew you, I ate

greedily. Slurped up all you had 

and then ran outside. Clumps of dirt

I clambered over, beetles that scattered, 

ants that persisted, I met them all. 

When it rained, all the parts of you 

I thought were mine reassembled like

a soldier’s gun. I could never keep you. 

I knew that then, but I was looking 

for something to steal. Your strawberry legs,

the tart taste of spring. Although I can’t 

relive you, my love, I think of you often, 

knocking on my door, saying hello, 

staying for dinner. 





Anisha Drall is from Gurgaon, but currently writes and lives in Singapore. She graduated from Yale-NUS College and her work has previously appeared in RockPaperPoem, Economic & Political Weekly, and Ghost City Press, among others. You can find her on Instagram @anishadrall.

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