I wonder if love would be the same
as it was once,
when she looked with eyes
in such lovely disguise.
Love would not remain
as it was once,
I would exchange lies
with lovely eyes.
I wonder that I still think of love
as it was once,
when we painted skies
to hide surprise.
Love would then remain
as it was once,
in our eyes, and
with time, see it flies.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
I'm Sorry
A shiver
and then you writhe, maybe.
A sound dissolves into your breath.
Do you close your eyes
pull your head back
and smile?
Do you miss me?
Tell me how it feels,
when he touches you.
and then you writhe, maybe.
A sound dissolves into your breath.
Do you close your eyes
pull your head back
and smile?
Do you miss me?
Tell me how it feels,
when he touches you.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Sugar
It has always been the same, the way fingers
whisper to each other between the handle.
She knows that he loves her more
when she looks at him from behind the tea cup
and says, "Sugar?"
They have never trespassed the barriers,
but when she makes tea for him
she feels a surge she always tries to suppress.
Once he dropped in when she was alone
someday, in the afternoon
nothing happened except that she made tea
and he ventured into the kitchen.
That day, she did not offer him sugar
nor he looked into her eyes over the tea cup,
nothing transpired, except unsurfaced desires.
Neither compromised, love or loyalty, that day.
whisper to each other between the handle.
She knows that he loves her more
when she looks at him from behind the tea cup
and says, "Sugar?"
They have never trespassed the barriers,
but when she makes tea for him
she feels a surge she always tries to suppress.
Once he dropped in when she was alone
someday, in the afternoon
nothing happened except that she made tea
and he ventured into the kitchen.
That day, she did not offer him sugar
nor he looked into her eyes over the tea cup,
nothing transpired, except unsurfaced desires.
Neither compromised, love or loyalty, that day.
Friday, December 10, 2010
If I was The Magician
He travelled across Asia during the Raj
in the army, world war two
in ships, on foot, in swamps, in fields
that looked similar to his own in the anonymous village.
He was a foot soldier, carrying a rifle with bayonet and few bullets
one of the multitudes that were littered across
the invisible boudaries of either sire of war
subservients holding fast to the orders and honour.
He even thought of writing his diary,
atleast that was mentioned in his letter
but no one ever discovered it, even after the war.
Perhaps, he hid it and never returned to the place.
The boy has known him only through stories
told by dadi or papa when he has not felt sleepy.
He tried to get dadi to read him the letters (there were only two)
when he was in 4th grade, but she only sang those songs
the language he could not understand, and held him close.
When war ended, he did not return
no one knew in which country he died, if he was burnt or buried
or if he was captured. Years later, a friend sent a note
said that he died in Burma, and was buried with other soldiers.
The boy was sitting in the classroom, examination
and wondering on one topic that he would write an essay on.
in the army, world war two
in ships, on foot, in swamps, in fields
that looked similar to his own in the anonymous village.
He was a foot soldier, carrying a rifle with bayonet and few bullets
one of the multitudes that were littered across
the invisible boudaries of either sire of war
subservients holding fast to the orders and honour.
He even thought of writing his diary,
atleast that was mentioned in his letter
but no one ever discovered it, even after the war.
Perhaps, he hid it and never returned to the place.
The boy has known him only through stories
told by dadi or papa when he has not felt sleepy.
He tried to get dadi to read him the letters (there were only two)
when he was in 4th grade, but she only sang those songs
the language he could not understand, and held him close.
When war ended, he did not return
no one knew in which country he died, if he was burnt or buried
or if he was captured. Years later, a friend sent a note
said that he died in Burma, and was buried with other soldiers.
The boy was sitting in the classroom, examination
and wondering on one topic that he would write an essay on.
Three Years
In three years, he would have moved away
unbound
into the sky she covered behind the clouds
that rained, but did not dissolve.
It is the origin of his infidelity.
unbound
into the sky she covered behind the clouds
that rained, but did not dissolve.
It is the origin of his infidelity.
Tappe
sardiyon mein kambal odhe bhi jab thithurte hain
ek angeethee pe haath sekne ki aas
kitni ummed bandhaa deti hai
waise hi jaise parvat par barf pighalkar
nadi bankar uss kinaare tak aati hai
jahaan se hawaa ek navik ko raah dikhaati hai.
maine dekha hai usse aisi thandi raaton mein
apne aap se batiyaate
nadi kinaare hawaa ko tappe sunaate.
ek angeethee pe haath sekne ki aas
kitni ummed bandhaa deti hai
waise hi jaise parvat par barf pighalkar
nadi bankar uss kinaare tak aati hai
jahaan se hawaa ek navik ko raah dikhaati hai.
maine dekha hai usse aisi thandi raaton mein
apne aap se batiyaate
nadi kinaare hawaa ko tappe sunaate.
Arth
tumhari paribhasha ke maayne
kabhi poore nahi kar paaya main
haar gaya tha apne hi shabdon se
bikhar gaye the arth zameen par
jaise moti tumhari maala se,
aur main samet-ta rah gaya
unhi ko jo maine hi piroye the.
kabhi poore nahi kar paaya main
haar gaya tha apne hi shabdon se
bikhar gaye the arth zameen par
jaise moti tumhari maala se,
aur main samet-ta rah gaya
unhi ko jo maine hi piroye the.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
In The Dimensions
We are travelling in the dimensions,
trespassing the horizons believed lost.
Roads divide, converge, end
but lights always design new patterns,
we swim across the walls, fly over the origin
before we are consumed back where we begin.
In search of the intersection, we cross
oceans, mirages, clouds and time,
and place markers to recover the paths, or not.
Mornings come with the longings of rain.
On the days we cannot fathom sunrays,
we make stars with crayon colours
and keep dreams in translucent jars with lids shut.
We are travelling in the dimensions,
struggling at the edges which erode rapidly.
We may have once come at the either side of the boundary
that separates the words from music
because when I sang, I heard no notes.
In summer we float to the bed of the rivers
and collect dried moss, silken stones, feathers
for no purpose, to think in randomness.
We are travelling without seam
in the dimensions that unwind in spiral threads
and many intersections, one where we may cross
at same time, with smiles.
Orchards are beautiful, but not like the forests
we are dreaming in wild.
We are travelling in the dimensions
that may merge in me and you.
There is a sunset we may create in the shades
of your eyes and my voice,
at the intersection where dreams may come to shapes
of your fingers and mine, together.
trespassing the horizons believed lost.
Roads divide, converge, end
but lights always design new patterns,
we swim across the walls, fly over the origin
before we are consumed back where we begin.
In search of the intersection, we cross
oceans, mirages, clouds and time,
and place markers to recover the paths, or not.
Mornings come with the longings of rain.
On the days we cannot fathom sunrays,
we make stars with crayon colours
and keep dreams in translucent jars with lids shut.
We are travelling in the dimensions,
struggling at the edges which erode rapidly.
We may have once come at the either side of the boundary
that separates the words from music
because when I sang, I heard no notes.
In summer we float to the bed of the rivers
and collect dried moss, silken stones, feathers
for no purpose, to think in randomness.
We are travelling without seam
in the dimensions that unwind in spiral threads
and many intersections, one where we may cross
at same time, with smiles.
Orchards are beautiful, but not like the forests
we are dreaming in wild.
We are travelling in the dimensions
that may merge in me and you.
There is a sunset we may create in the shades
of your eyes and my voice,
at the intersection where dreams may come to shapes
of your fingers and mine, together.
Courtyard
She carries scars that never reconcile
A nurtured silence paces hard
On the nights when wolves reign the forests
It rains in her courtyard.
A nurtured silence paces hard
On the nights when wolves reign the forests
It rains in her courtyard.
Origin
I am the origin of your words
you may take the credits and awards
but when you will smile, I will cry
in those words.
you may take the credits and awards
but when you will smile, I will cry
in those words.
Musings
There are miscellaneous memories
in which I never return
where faces merge with faces
and voices grow faint
breif recollections of events that mattered then
stories barely unfold before I move to next.
in which I never return
where faces merge with faces
and voices grow faint
breif recollections of events that mattered then
stories barely unfold before I move to next.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
Connected Stories
She is the tangent to his thoughts; and yet
while he is stationary in his beliefs,
she keeps sliding along his boundary
to meet him for brief, connected stories
that have no endings, like one dream
from which he never wakes up.
while he is stationary in his beliefs,
she keeps sliding along his boundary
to meet him for brief, connected stories
that have no endings, like one dream
from which he never wakes up.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Without
When other things failed, today
I looked at your photograph
traced you with my thick fingers
and begin to write, in desperation.
Words failed me, like you.
I sleep with shivers when
words haunt me inside, relentlessly.
It has been too much time since peace.
There is a rage I subside
in the mortality of words
that erupts in inconsequential thoughts
when I look at your photograph
and trace you with my thick fingers.
I wonder what I would write, without.
I looked at your photograph
traced you with my thick fingers
and begin to write, in desperation.
Words failed me, like you.
I sleep with shivers when
words haunt me inside, relentlessly.
It has been too much time since peace.
There is a rage I subside
in the mortality of words
that erupts in inconsequential thoughts
when I look at your photograph
and trace you with my thick fingers.
I wonder what I would write, without.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
मैं तेरी शख्सियत
मैं तुझमे हूं, तेरे पास हूं मैं
मैं तेर शख्सियत, तेरी आवाज़ हूं मैं
तेरी मंज़िल का हर प्रयास हूं मैं
मैं अंत हूं, आघाज़ हूं मैं
तेरी जीत का उल्हास हूं मैं
तेरे जश्न का हर साज़ हूं मैं
तेरी चाहत, तेरा नाज़ हूं मैं
मैं खुदा तेरा, तेरी आस हूं मैं
मैं तेर शख्सियत, तेरी आवाज़ हूं मैं
तेरी मंज़िल का हर प्रयास हूं मैं
मैं अंत हूं, आघाज़ हूं मैं
तेरी जीत का उल्हास हूं मैं
तेरे जश्न का हर साज़ हूं मैं
तेरी चाहत, तेरा नाज़ हूं मैं
मैं खुदा तेरा, तेरी आस हूं मैं
राहों का अंत
रात से हार कर चला था मैं
सोचा था राहों में रोशनी तो होगी
धुंधला सा कहीं सवेरा मिलेगा
कोई किरन बादलों से उभरी तो होगी
सब राहों का अंत हो गया
अब तक गुम वो सवेरा है
सोचा था राहों में रोशनी तो होगी
और यहां मंज़िल पर भी अंधेरा है
सोचा था राहों में रोशनी तो होगी
धुंधला सा कहीं सवेरा मिलेगा
कोई किरन बादलों से उभरी तो होगी
सब राहों का अंत हो गया
अब तक गुम वो सवेरा है
सोचा था राहों में रोशनी तो होगी
और यहां मंज़िल पर भी अंधेरा है
Musings of Hyenas
Darkness from the trees in surrounding dense forests
Light that stirs unevenly in slopes
Ruskin’s tales of ghosts
A traveler’s introduction to frights,
And then, in the villages of mountains
Hyenas cry at nights.
Light that stirs unevenly in slopes
Ruskin’s tales of ghosts
A traveler’s introduction to frights,
And then, in the villages of mountains
Hyenas cry at nights.
Stories
She kept stories in her pallu
tied along with the keys
that made sound like tiny bells
playing with her anklets.
I heard her songs in the gallery
that I could feel with little hands
music of tiny bells she played
to tell me stories.
tied along with the keys
that made sound like tiny bells
playing with her anklets.
I heard her songs in the gallery
that I could feel with little hands
music of tiny bells she played
to tell me stories.
Untitled
There are thoughts that not even blink
I am trapped in one of those I think.
It's been long and I try to wake up,
struggling to find a word to take up.
I am trapped in one of those I think.
It's been long and I try to wake up,
struggling to find a word to take up.
River
Always she smiles into the river's last bend
her ankles submerged in the water,
the river eases some of her fears
she repeats the promises made to her daughter.
The daughter knows where the sun sets
and that promises disappear in the river's last bend
she has seen her mother smile
reluctant to accept the much overstayed end.
her ankles submerged in the water,
the river eases some of her fears
she repeats the promises made to her daughter.
The daughter knows where the sun sets
and that promises disappear in the river's last bend
she has seen her mother smile
reluctant to accept the much overstayed end.
Stars
She folds the stars into neat triangles
so that each fits into her handbag
as she carries night from a sky to another.
so that each fits into her handbag
as she carries night from a sky to another.
Sounds
Speak to me in windless whispers
let me hear, clear
words have a tendency to merge with the winds.
let me hear, clear
words have a tendency to merge with the winds.
Dahlias
Love is found in abundance in the dead sea
bodies never dissolve and drown;
she floats with dahlias in her hair.
He loves the dahlias, she always felt
they never spoke in words in the dead sea.
bodies never dissolve and drown;
she floats with dahlias in her hair.
He loves the dahlias, she always felt
they never spoke in words in the dead sea.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
illusions
He makes window frames
on the walls that are cold and stoic
with the ageing of the years.
Often, people come and open the frames,
to find more walls.
He did not create windows,
only illusions of the openings
that do not exist.
on the walls that are cold and stoic
with the ageing of the years.
Often, people come and open the frames,
to find more walls.
He did not create windows,
only illusions of the openings
that do not exist.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Mobile
Send a smiley that i react to when I wake up
Mesmerize me with a message,
I have mobile expectations.
Mesmerize me with a message,
I have mobile expectations.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Her Roses
The spring that did not stay
her garden was all decay
but shrubs of roses smiled in corners till late,
sometimes she wonders if roses hallucinate.
Cedars have seen winter gone
she stands like the roses all alone
nights shrink cold around her shawl
she collects the roses when they fall.
her garden was all decay
but shrubs of roses smiled in corners till late,
sometimes she wonders if roses hallucinate.
Cedars have seen winter gone
she stands like the roses all alone
nights shrink cold around her shawl
she collects the roses when they fall.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Felicity
I read your words, mesmerized
like fireflies in the frosty nights
absorbed words in surreal emotions
play havoc with my rational thoughts,
driving me to a rebellion against self
over depreviation of expectations.
The words you create, lift me
to a plane that I once revered,
I relive the dreams through you
smile, smile, I smile
I read your words, mesmerized
like fireflies in the frosty nights.
like fireflies in the frosty nights
absorbed words in surreal emotions
play havoc with my rational thoughts,
driving me to a rebellion against self
over depreviation of expectations.
The words you create, lift me
to a plane that I once revered,
I relive the dreams through you
smile, smile, I smile
I read your words, mesmerized
like fireflies in the frosty nights.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Vintage
Shape of my dreams is bit obsolete
Like the cars we call vintage,
I live in that world when I sleep.
Like the cars we call vintage,
I live in that world when I sleep.
Ode to Age
Somedays he is bougainvilllea on old mill walls
hanging over mostly eroded edges
declaration of aged years
resurgent with a new times.
Other days he is a simple deodar
holding roots in slopes of mountains
content of being a commentator
on winds that once passed these corridors.
hanging over mostly eroded edges
declaration of aged years
resurgent with a new times.
Other days he is a simple deodar
holding roots in slopes of mountains
content of being a commentator
on winds that once passed these corridors.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Red
I don't like Red
Paint me a rainbow
With only six colours
And see if you can
Arrange Indigo
Between Green and Yellow.
Paint me a rainbow
With only six colours
And see if you can
Arrange Indigo
Between Green and Yellow.
As I see it
Love has settled for routine, and
We break routine in most romantic ways
You drop me a rose at my office
And call my colleagues to check
If color on my face matches that of rose.
Things are simple, like always
I make breakfast and you dinner, except
On weekends when we change roles
For the sake of change, and some fun.
As I see it, things haven't changed much,
You still shout at me for not removing shoes
At the door, as I carry rain into the living room.
As I see it, things haven't changed much
We have kept them moving in more convenient ways.
We break routine in most romantic ways
You drop me a rose at my office
And call my colleagues to check
If color on my face matches that of rose.
Things are simple, like always
I make breakfast and you dinner, except
On weekends when we change roles
For the sake of change, and some fun.
As I see it, things haven't changed much,
You still shout at me for not removing shoes
At the door, as I carry rain into the living room.
As I see it, things haven't changed much
We have kept them moving in more convenient ways.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Sensuality of words
Sensuality of words is drawn on the lines
of your lips, twitching at where you
bite, as you hear me sing one line of
your favourite poetry.
of your lips, twitching at where you
bite, as you hear me sing one line of
your favourite poetry.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
रात के कुछ टूटे तारे
उन शब्दों को सहेज रखा है मैंने
तुमने कहे थे मुझसे जो कभी
रात से टूटे तारों को
खाली पन्नों पे उतारा है
अक्सर यूंही मिल जाते हैं
सिलसिले मेरे हाथों में
बिखरे, कुछ सिमटे, तुम्हारे शब्द
बोलते, कुछ चुप, तुम्हारे शब्द
तस्वीरों के आईनों में
पुराने कोनों-किनारों पर
कुछ पुराने शब्द मिले
थोड़े मेरे थोड़े तुम्हारे
रात के कुछ टूटे तारे
काश.. से शुरु तुम्हारी बातें
ना जाने क्यूं फ़िर मिली मुझे
उंगलियों के बीच में जैसे तुम्हारी उंगलियां हों
कागज़ पे परछाई बनाती
सहर की कुछ रश्मियां हों
तुमने कहे थे मुझसे जो कभी
रात से टूटे तारों को
खाली पन्नों पे उतारा है
अक्सर यूंही मिल जाते हैं
सिलसिले मेरे हाथों में
बिखरे, कुछ सिमटे, तुम्हारे शब्द
बोलते, कुछ चुप, तुम्हारे शब्द
तस्वीरों के आईनों में
पुराने कोनों-किनारों पर
कुछ पुराने शब्द मिले
थोड़े मेरे थोड़े तुम्हारे
रात के कुछ टूटे तारे
काश.. से शुरु तुम्हारी बातें
ना जाने क्यूं फ़िर मिली मुझे
उंगलियों के बीच में जैसे तुम्हारी उंगलियां हों
कागज़ पे परछाई बनाती
सहर की कुछ रश्मियां हों
The End
The road ends here.
This is what you travelled for
a dream stretched into barefoot miles
cost of a life surrendered.
Is it worth?
I leave you to interpret
the price of dreams not measured against life.
This is what you travelled for
a dream stretched into barefoot miles
cost of a life surrendered.
Is it worth?
I leave you to interpret
the price of dreams not measured against life.
Anguish
Make me a human.
I loved once
they killed me.
Let me live in death.
Love is not worth,
I did not sacrifice.
Do not create God.
I loved once
they killed me.
Let me live in death.
Love is not worth,
I did not sacrifice.
Do not create God.
Lost
You allowed me to see you whither
and hold the pieces you let go,
Maybe you wanted it that way.
and hold the pieces you let go,
Maybe you wanted it that way.
So it goes..
You colour the roses that were once blue,
And say love is true in me and you;
I seek fragrance even if colour is blue,
And I'll keep love true for me and you.
And say love is true in me and you;
I seek fragrance even if colour is blue,
And I'll keep love true for me and you.
New Dress
Chambers of secrets exploding white
Haunt me in the loud sun sight
New dress I wear for her wedding night
Clamours I hear through inconsistent lights.
Haunt me in the loud sun sight
New dress I wear for her wedding night
Clamours I hear through inconsistent lights.
Smiles Lost
Days spent cursing the bygones
Faces shimmer in angry tones
Long drawn lists of things incomplete
Words return from the stones.
Smiles lost to uncertain fates
Faces stare at closed gates
Efforts made to fill up his father's shoes
Words get away from the slates.
Faces shimmer in angry tones
Long drawn lists of things incomplete
Words return from the stones.
Smiles lost to uncertain fates
Faces stare at closed gates
Efforts made to fill up his father's shoes
Words get away from the slates.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Hero however
He was a daily labourer with no special powers
a young wife that he married when child
two boys studying at government school.
Did he know he was a hero?
Woshipped in amateur hearts
he carried a world in arms,
smiled at faces held in palms.
a young wife that he married when child
two boys studying at government school.
Did he know he was a hero?
Woshipped in amateur hearts
he carried a world in arms,
smiled at faces held in palms.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
खुद-खुशी
..
झिझकती सतह पे दो-चार सितारे
कठोर वास्तविकता के छुपे इशारे
शहर में कुओं की कमी है थोड़ी
मौत भी रात अब कहां गुज़ारे
दर्द का ज़ख्म से अब रिश्ता ना रहा
घूम रहा बदनाम एक शब्द जो कहा
बंद कमरे में राहत टटोलती ज़िंदगी
ढ़ूंढ़ती है छत पर एक कपड़े की जगह
बेज़ुबान पुल से आंकती गहराई
तराशा था जिसे उस ख्वाब की सच्चाई
जिस्म कुछ देर टहल सकता है हवा में
एक आज़ाद पंछी, ना कोई गवाही
..
झिझकती सतह पे दो-चार सितारे
कठोर वास्तविकता के छुपे इशारे
शहर में कुओं की कमी है थोड़ी
मौत भी रात अब कहां गुज़ारे
दर्द का ज़ख्म से अब रिश्ता ना रहा
घूम रहा बदनाम एक शब्द जो कहा
बंद कमरे में राहत टटोलती ज़िंदगी
ढ़ूंढ़ती है छत पर एक कपड़े की जगह
बेज़ुबान पुल से आंकती गहराई
तराशा था जिसे उस ख्वाब की सच्चाई
जिस्म कुछ देर टहल सकता है हवा में
एक आज़ाद पंछी, ना कोई गवाही
..
तमन्ना
..
शाम की बारिश में संग घूम लें
बूंदों को बटोरें, बादल चूम लें
भीगे-भीगे से लम्हों में झूम लें
उछल के ख्वाहिशों के गुच्छे तोड़ लें
आज़माईश है किस्मत तो ज़रा हाथ मरोड़ लें
खुशियों को अपनी साथ-साथ जोड़ लें
रंग-बिरंगे पन्नों से इश्तहार काट लें
खट्टी है ज़िंदगी अचार चाट लें
चलो आज थोड़ा-सा खुमार बांट लें
..
शाम की बारिश में संग घूम लें
बूंदों को बटोरें, बादल चूम लें
भीगे-भीगे से लम्हों में झूम लें
उछल के ख्वाहिशों के गुच्छे तोड़ लें
आज़माईश है किस्मत तो ज़रा हाथ मरोड़ लें
खुशियों को अपनी साथ-साथ जोड़ लें
रंग-बिरंगे पन्नों से इश्तहार काट लें
खट्टी है ज़िंदगी अचार चाट लें
चलो आज थोड़ा-सा खुमार बांट लें
..
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Losing Greens
a summer night's breath on dry window panes
never a dream led to believe
of rivers that vanished without rains.
Masters of the willows never wept
when stripped of honour in everyday shame
angry birds died in granular sky
wind galleries shrieked for songs that never came.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
The Girl With Rainbow Scars
Of the girl with rainbow scars
She lived in the house of Mahogany
She loved rhyme in the words.
She housed a traveler years ago
He gave her colorful jars
She kept these in the water
Her home illusion of stars.
She smiled through silk in her senses
He wandered in the dusky bars
They made love in the house of Mahogany
Unnoticed blossom of the scars.
He left unsaid as he had come
She found the unfilled hours
The dream took its time to wake up
She ached of rainbow scars.
She loved colors
Purple and others
She loved rhymes in the words
She lived in the house of Mahogany.
I met her once with colorful jars
She gave me a rainbow from her scars.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Design of a Psyche
Meeting strangers in unknown places
spirits play tugs in limited spaces
days of indifference remain alike
few smiles cover the reluctant traces.
Design of a psyche is interesting to read
desires abandon a moment of greed
loneliness recedes inside the bedroom
acts make up a music desperate to lead.
spirits play tugs in limited spaces
days of indifference remain alike
few smiles cover the reluctant traces.
Design of a psyche is interesting to read
desires abandon a moment of greed
loneliness recedes inside the bedroom
acts make up a music desperate to lead.
Fantasies
Remember the rockets we shot with rubber bands
Hurling in air, hurting the hands;
If they return from empty spaces
And hurl back at us, on our faces,
Tell me do you know new hiding places?
Aspirations played wings when dreams came cheap
We raised cactus at the boundary of the heap;
If wings come apart in the mid flight,
Tell me through cactus if we can creep?
There is another fantasy to write,
If stars tried to look different each night,
Tell me will you feel the fright?
Hurling in air, hurting the hands;
If they return from empty spaces
And hurl back at us, on our faces,
Tell me do you know new hiding places?
Aspirations played wings when dreams came cheap
We raised cactus at the boundary of the heap;
If wings come apart in the mid flight,
Tell me through cactus if we can creep?
There is another fantasy to write,
If stars tried to look different each night,
Tell me will you feel the fright?
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Observation at Chandni Chowk
He's desperate to sell
She's desperate to save
Fighting over few rupees
Equal to which I spent
Unassuming over shoe-polish,
Poverty in the market place
It escapes as it hits
She's desperate to save
Fighting over few rupees
Equal to which I spent
Unassuming over shoe-polish,
Poverty in the market place
It escapes as it hits
Gloss
Blue blue gloss
red red floss
candy bars
lipstick stars.
Criss-cross!
Criss-cross!
Candy floss
lipstick gloss
blue blue stars
red red bars.
Criss-cross!
Criss-cross!
Lipstick gloss
red red bars
candy floss
blue blue stars.
red red floss
candy bars
lipstick stars.
Criss-cross!
Criss-cross!
Candy floss
lipstick gloss
blue blue stars
red red bars.
Criss-cross!
Criss-cross!
Lipstick gloss
red red bars
candy floss
blue blue stars.
Revisiting Conversations
I remember old conversations
long discussions on phone
of love, fear, friends and other things
which mattered then,
like gossips overheard at Coffee House
and bargains with the storekeepers on the Fifth Street.
Your voice concerned
stranded one night at Lower Parel station
waiting for the last train
amidst hungry harmless eyes of Mumbai.
Your sound longing at faraway hostel
in August rains
clinging like wet clothes drenched in love, and lust.
I remember old conversations
whispers carried over airwaves
the sweaty pillow talks in summer.
Yours words silent on despair and uncertainty
the talks I remember stretched late into January nights,
leaving cold.
Years of conversations
fears, joys and missed sleeps
some words not mentioned here,
all remain translated into memories.
I revisit you often in these conversations,
with a cup of black coffee and honey.
long discussions on phone
of love, fear, friends and other things
which mattered then,
like gossips overheard at Coffee House
and bargains with the storekeepers on the Fifth Street.
Your voice concerned
stranded one night at Lower Parel station
waiting for the last train
amidst hungry harmless eyes of Mumbai.
Your sound longing at faraway hostel
in August rains
clinging like wet clothes drenched in love, and lust.
I remember old conversations
whispers carried over airwaves
the sweaty pillow talks in summer.
Yours words silent on despair and uncertainty
the talks I remember stretched late into January nights,
leaving cold.
Years of conversations
fears, joys and missed sleeps
some words not mentioned here,
all remain translated into memories.
I revisit you often in these conversations,
with a cup of black coffee and honey.
For The Ones Who Never Met
Sparkling you,
dissolved..
Love I found,
smuggled.
ishq ki tamanna
sirf saara jahaan..
baarish ke nishaan
aasmaani
Words uncut,
paralleled..
Smiles unmet,
wandered.
dissolved..
Love I found,
smuggled.
ishq ki tamanna
sirf saara jahaan..
baarish ke nishaan
aasmaani
Words uncut,
paralleled..
Smiles unmet,
wandered.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
through sleepless nights
I am so tired that I can fall asleep when you caress my head in your lap
and then, its the only hope that takes me through these sleepless lonely nights.
Returning Wilderness
I have seen love whispering away in your eyes
returning to the woods where it belonged
before I sought you from the wilderness.
Edge of the mountains, depths of the trees
I have seen it all shrinking away in your smile
while flowers withered, trying to reclaim life in insanity.
I was wrong to believe we can exist in concrete
take me along in that whisper love
take me to the wilderness, where you belong.
returning to the woods where it belonged
before I sought you from the wilderness.
Edge of the mountains, depths of the trees
I have seen it all shrinking away in your smile
while flowers withered, trying to reclaim life in insanity.
I was wrong to believe we can exist in concrete
take me along in that whisper love
take me to the wilderness, where you belong.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Numb
After a long period of numbness
I wake up to cold
feeling more numb.
I think again
if I feel, then why numb?
Numb, I fly
into the clouds.
After a long period of numbness,
I fly.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Flute Forlorn
Flute forlorn played in background
few lines she tried,
Words returned from the wall
Oh, she cried! she cried!
Memories abandoned in a honey jar
"They look unfamiliar," she lied,
The last cloud rained last night
Oh, she cried! she cried!
few lines she tried,
Words returned from the wall
Oh, she cried! she cried!
Memories abandoned in a honey jar
"They look unfamiliar," she lied,
The last cloud rained last night
Oh, she cried! she cried!
Friday, March 5, 2010
I, Love you
I,
Love the way sky changes shades
in your eyes,
Love the way distance fades
in your smiles.
I,
Love morning sun feel marshmallow
on your skin,
Love Coldplay singing Yellow
on your chin.
I,
Love mountains
Love rivers
Love fountains
Love mirrors.
I,Love the mist creeping over
covering you,
Love the spring with flowers
showering you.
I,
Love you,
Love the way you say
I, Love you.
Love the way sky changes shades
in your eyes,
Love the way distance fades
in your smiles.
I,
Love morning sun feel marshmallow
on your skin,
Love Coldplay singing Yellow
on your chin.
I,
Love mountains
Love rivers
Love fountains
Love mirrors.
I,Love the mist creeping over
covering you,
Love the spring with flowers
showering you.
I,
Love you,
Love the way you say
I, Love you.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
For the Mountains
Mountains always draw me like home. I visited few tea estates here in Srilanka last Saturday. Tea gardens, pines, winding roads, waterfalls and clouds. Running around in metros, wasting time travellig to capture few moments at home, I often fail to realise that life also exists elsewhere. There is a better air, cleaner water. There is a precious sunset. There is a love story that wind sings with the mountains. Tresspassing a soul that wanders.
Live one day in the valley of flowers
that you always wanted to see.
Live one day with yourself
a person you always wanted to be.
Escape to the vanilla sky,
escape before the dreams die.
Live one day in the valley of flowers
that you always wanted to see.
Live one day with yourself
a person you always wanted to be.
Escape to the vanilla sky,
escape before the dreams die.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Tumhari Beti
Meri duniya chup-chaap, gumsum thi
Shabdon se dosti tumne hi karayi
Chaand ke khwaab nahi dekhe the maine
Sitaaron ki baatein tumne hi batayi
Shahar purana, tumhari tarah tha
Khel pariyon ka nahi tha thamta
Ojhal hote station ko taakti ek ladki
Bataao kahaan se laati lautne ki kshamta
Khushi chahre pe pahli tumhi laaye the
Ghar ab mera tha, mera apna tha
Baarah saal beet gaye nishaan banaate
Poora kiya maine jo tumhara sapna tha
Tumhaare saaye se kabhi door nahi gayi thi
Ab lautna chaahti hoon tumhaare paas
Shabdon se dosti tumne hi karayi
Chaand ke khwaab nahi dekhe the maine
Sitaaron ki baatein tumne hi batayi
Shahar purana, tumhari tarah tha
Khel pariyon ka nahi tha thamta
Ojhal hote station ko taakti ek ladki
Bataao kahaan se laati lautne ki kshamta
Khushi chahre pe pahli tumhi laaye the
Ghar ab mera tha, mera apna tha
Baarah saal beet gaye nishaan banaate
Poora kiya maine jo tumhara sapna tha
Tumhaare saaye se kabhi door nahi gayi thi
Ab lautna chaahti hoon tumhaare paas
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Niyam (triveni)
sankiri hoti sadak ko stabdh takta raha main
guzarte waqt ki garam hawa talwon mein mitti bharti rahi
roj ki tarah aaj bhi gande pair liye ghar lauta.
Tryst
Apprehensions
beliefs
mis-beliefs
previos trauma
new faith
challenges
hopes
fears
smiles
tears,
and I make a thousand dreams.
Regular and Occasional
I have been the sunshine
that nurtured the plants
you watered every morning.
I have been the Christmas tree
full of presents and nostalgia
that you loved once a year.
I am the bridge to your past
I am the road to your future.
Trees
Wake up to the tree
facing the leaves
hug it, love it
unfold a present
hold the present
make it stay
put a swing and sway
treasure the spring
try to sing
autumns always pass.
facing the leaves
hug it, love it
unfold a present
hold the present
make it stay
put a swing and sway
treasure the spring
try to sing
autumns always pass.
Being human
I like your vulnerability
makes me feel almighty
a sense of power,
otherwise I am a human.
If Roark
struggling
inspired from unseen..
spirit..
stares into you
naked..
stares through you
a discomfort,
till then unrealized..
disrobing of promises
to ground..
a paperwork
crushed,
ironed again..
arms pray
not words..
uncompromised..
edge of the circle
tripping over,
falling proud..
unbound..
inspired from unseen..
spirit..
stares into you
naked..
stares through you
a discomfort,
till then unrealized..
disrobing of promises
to ground..
a paperwork
crushed,
ironed again..
arms pray
not words..
uncompromised..
edge of the circle
tripping over,
falling proud..
unbound..
Hero..
ek zamaana tha
scooter chalakar
hero bana tha main
khush, khush
gear change karna
baayein haath ka kaam tha
rear view mirror pe
likha apna hi naam tha
maa ne saamaan mangaaya tha
main udta chala aaya tha
gaon mein pajama pahne
farrate se bhagaya tha
ek zamaana tha
khush, khush
aur main hero
scooter chalakar
hero bana tha main
khush, khush
gear change karna
baayein haath ka kaam tha
rear view mirror pe
likha apna hi naam tha
maa ne saamaan mangaaya tha
main udta chala aaya tha
gaon mein pajama pahne
farrate se bhagaya tha
ek zamaana tha
khush, khush
aur main hero
some relations
Living in
with anger and lust
two lives
happy and reckless..
Just like legs,
crossed or apart..
as convenient.
on chemistry
The first subject
to clear in Love
is Physics.
Then comes all crucial
understudied, but enjoyable
Biology.
Morons,
we've been thinking
Chemistry
to clear in Love
is Physics.
Then comes all crucial
understudied, but enjoyable
Biology.
Morons,
we've been thinking
Chemistry
Selfish
With a dark mood
brooding
agitated
making no attempt
to hide contemptfor delhi
or me..
Revisit me.
Nothing would change
but, perhaps,
I would feel better.
rishta
chudiyon se khanakte haath
tumne thaame they ek din
or kaha tha sajaye rakhna
inhe neele kaanch se.
aaj bhi toh rang neela hi hai
tumhe shayad nazar nahi aata
ek-ek karke toot rahi hain yeh
nayi le aao fir se.
tumne thaame they ek din
or kaha tha sajaye rakhna
inhe neele kaanch se.
aaj bhi toh rang neela hi hai
tumhe shayad nazar nahi aata
ek-ek karke toot rahi hain yeh
nayi le aao fir se.
scotfree
i live free, memory defies me
chaos is what pacifies me
there are a few bones in my cupboard
maybe the entire skeleton
ohh, and i live again
scotfree, free for a new stain
chaos is what pacifies me
there are a few bones in my cupboard
maybe the entire skeleton
ohh, and i live again
scotfree, free for a new stain
Tonic
Hear the words
not see them.
Live for the words
not with them.
There is no Angel
words don't pray.
Smile in the words
what world may say.
saara jahaan
ishq ki tamanna
sirf saara jahaan
rooh ki fitrat
aawargi ibaadat
khwaahish be-intehaan
baarish ke nishaan..
aasmani.
sirf saara jahaan
rooh ki fitrat
aawargi ibaadat
khwaahish be-intehaan
baarish ke nishaan..
aasmani.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Between the Homes
With love and desperation
they look at him
surrender all they possess
and promise more
to make him stay
one more day.
He smiles, and wonders
if he is capable
to meet that expectation,
being only son.
At another home
she had reminded him
to return alone.
Divided he stands
by his start,
not knowing exactly
where to part.
they look at him
surrender all they possess
and promise more
to make him stay
one more day.
He smiles, and wonders
if he is capable
to meet that expectation,
being only son.
At another home
she had reminded him
to return alone.
Divided he stands
by his start,
not knowing exactly
where to part.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Bachpan Ki Kuch Yaadein
tractor se ganne churaata bachpan
uss chote shahar mein hi choot gaya
sadak kinare nahar ka swimming pool
patharon ke baandh sang toot gaya
kaagaz aur rubberband se udaate rocket,
sookhe kache aam chatt se churaate
samose-jalebi se sunday ka naashta
fir aaraam se tubewell jaake nahaate
icepice ki boundary ko leke bahas
sardi ke andheron mein shawl sang dhak gayi
saare dost bhi bade ho gaye
ek kadi wahin yaad sang atak gayi
garam garam chai pathar ke choolhe pe
do scooter, ek commander aur hum sab
nadi wali picnic chalte hain phir se
chalo na, bahut saal huye, saath milte hain phir se
uss chote shahar mein hi choot gaya
sadak kinare nahar ka swimming pool
patharon ke baandh sang toot gaya
kaagaz aur rubberband se udaate rocket,
sookhe kache aam chatt se churaate
samose-jalebi se sunday ka naashta
fir aaraam se tubewell jaake nahaate
icepice ki boundary ko leke bahas
sardi ke andheron mein shawl sang dhak gayi
saare dost bhi bade ho gaye
ek kadi wahin yaad sang atak gayi
garam garam chai pathar ke choolhe pe
do scooter, ek commander aur hum sab
nadi wali picnic chalte hain phir se
chalo na, bahut saal huye, saath milte hain phir se
Saturday, January 23, 2010
A mute love story
A passage I sought
for existence..
home.
Jingles of deodars
you gave..
silent.
Unwinding in your love
I found freedom..
sacred.
You are the mountain
I trespassed..
wind.
for existence..
home.
Jingles of deodars
you gave..
silent.
Unwinding in your love
I found freedom..
sacred.
You are the mountain
I trespassed..
wind.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Jumping and Philosophy
While bungee jumping
when a face rushed through
it occured to me
I've not forgotten you.
Damn the hope
hanging to the rope
I realized
the horrors of this scope.
While bungee jumping
if I think of you
its not right I guess
to expect the same from you.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
violin
all music that haunts is not violin
ringing deep and dark
there are also nightingales,
if you ever loved a sweet voice.
ringing deep and dark
there are also nightingales,
if you ever loved a sweet voice.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Unsettled Music
Unsettled music
a song forgotten
I sway hypnotized
to uninhibited memories
a face reappears
against the scars
and the night chords haunting.
a song forgotten
I sway hypnotized
to uninhibited memories
a face reappears
against the scars
and the night chords haunting.
Walnuts
There is a place you said
in the cloudstouching the hills
where we grew walnuts
in my childhood.
Not much I remember,
except the pine trees.
I know father,
you want to return after retirement.
The trees would be there
even now,will they recognize us?
I will come along too father
we will grow walnuts
in the old trees.
Either Mistakes
What you found yesterday
was a piece of word
not completely consumed.
Why do you try to find meaning
in a word half spoken?
I cannot complete it.
was a piece of word
not completely consumed.
Why do you try to find meaning
in a word half spoken?
I cannot complete it.
Peace of Mind
I liked you in curly hair
zara-se bikhare
now, I see a picture
and your hair straightened.
I am not irritated,
a bit upset at my memories.
This is not the best thing I've to say
and so, with insanity I believe
you deserve another poetry.
zara-se bikhare
now, I see a picture
and your hair straightened.
I am not irritated,
a bit upset at my memories.
This is not the best thing I've to say
and so, with insanity I believe
you deserve another poetry.
Premises of Divorce
Tired, frustrated, violent, silent
what you wanted to run away from,
I have been the long day at your work.
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