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Diary Entry (after Lunch with the Tribe)               Act of Faith

         One a penny, two a penny           My Father's Life in Mine - 1


Diary Entry (after Lunch with the Tribe)


Lunch at the China Club

with the diamond tribe

a chance to display a new bauble or two.

The things I take in my stride!


Ooh, look at the shoe

it’s Jimmy Choo

and the boots so slick,

Manolo Blahnik.


Dear diary I nod and smile

it’s always fun

to join a tribe

even the diamond one, for a while.


Although I can get smug and so out of it

“outside, my darling, the world is bleak

and I did not buy a single thing

this week

‘Be a bag’ – not me

Cartier watch – not my style

look at me – miss designer nothing”.


Cut dead then

when I would not discuss the zone diet

until I trilled

“have you seen my phone

can do a zillion things, so-o light, and not available here”.  


Just the right jibe

to put me back in the tribe.



(From the series ‘Aspiring to be a Tai Tai’)  


Kavita A Jindal

first published in literary journal, Dimsum, Vol 7, 2003

in collection, Raincheck Renewed, Chameleon Press, 2004;

also published in anthology, In Our Own Words,  Vol 7, 2007





Act of Faith


Don’t pry don’t ask to whom I pray; if it changes from day to day, if the entity is

male or female

if I fast and for whom

don’t ask, don’t ask.


I know there are forms to fill; spaces where I must write, neatly and in caps, the

beliefs I’ve claimed

dog tags strung tight

around my neck  


agnostic, atheist, multi-faith, irreligious, liberal, gregarious, star-gazer


and to top it all  



yet searching for a word to describe my true religion, which began one solemn day  

when I thought

impermanence could be

invited at will  


I wished to be a ribbon of mist trailing in the cold blast of the stratosphere but found

I’d stayed within

reach of earth; why, I was

still grounded  


Drawing breath is an act of faith, one I’ve embraced; running, jumping, keeping time, sucking in

air, choosing to

each new day

is religion


Monday to Sunday, just living is an act of faith.


Kavita A Jindal

published in Cha:  An Asian Literary Journal, Iss 1, 2007,






One a penny, two a penny


Watch this skin

I’m in.


I could shuck it off.


Present it to a young boy

to surf in.


I could scrawl ‘Ripcurl’ on it.


Watch as I wear

my other skin


the one that doesn’t swim

but is carried around in the bottomless changing bag.


Both skins are rudders

guiding those with eyes


Whichever box you put me in


one skin approves


the other defies.



Kavita A Jindal

in collection, Raincheck Renewed, Chameleon Press, 2004;

in journal,  How2, Vol 2, Iss 4,  ‘Innovation in Contemporary Indian Writing’;

also published in Other Voices Poetry, Vol 4,






My Father's Life in Mine - 1


Some say

you were killed

by the mad woman

you made your second wife.


I always knew

ever the fighter pilot

you were on a self-destruct mission


Flying your jet

laden with bombs

some shop-bought, some homemade:

whisky, tobacco,

the knowledge your mother never loved you.


The vague verdict:

death from burns


Heat seared away your skin

yet when I laid my palm on your forehead

to say goodbye

you were colder

than the icebox

I found you in.



(From the series ‘My Father’s Life in Mine’) 


Kavita A Jindal

in collection, Raincheck Renewed, Chameleon Press, 2004;

in anthology, Poetry Live!  Chameleon Press, 2004;

also published in Other Voices Project


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