What's In a Name
Ustad Bismillah
Khan in a 1989 documentary sings
in the only Muharram performance
he gives, standing, a lament so
heartrending
one cannot forget his face or the name
that spills
like grief
like tears
And one is better for it
Yesterday
I came across it in a marsiya by Mirza Dabeer
Writing in a language that is crystals on velvet
Sugar crystals piercing sweet
A name, a shard
that pierces centuries: Bibi Z
You
her namesake
A name that now calls out to me
wherever I see it
Frank O’Hara and All That
It rained early this morning
my aunt said first thing
At the breakfast table
like a broken record
most mornings out of habit or
whenever silence calls to be
filled, we have a conversation
about the heat and the rain
and the humidity. I read
Frank O’Hara on the balcony
accompanied as if by a chamber
orchestra of: two books, one
phone, one steel tumbler and a
olive-green glass bottle
of water. O’Hara does
lend himself readily
to a tweet, but this morning
I haven’t yet tweeted. Generally,
it has something to do
with love but out of context
Presently, I am resisting
saying deep things
Well, except
inadvertently
Carol D’Souza loves chai and lives in Chennai.