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.

Silk

She dances in the mountains
I hear silk rustle in her scream
Oh, my precious, precious dream!

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.

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.

To Arundhati

Fragrance of poetry I find in your proses

The angel surrenders her pain to the roses.

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

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

Excess

My side of happiness is flooded
and, hence, I feel cold blooded.

Excess

My side of happiness is flooded
and, hence, I feel cold blooded.

Faith

Rivers that run silent in summers,
feathers fly to their bed stones.