245. Nightscapes

his affairs of the night
are secret;
hidden
even from himself

his snores and sleep-talks
sound
like a mono-syllabic rhyme
with multiple interpretations
for different audience;
interpretations
I fail to decipher

like the rhythmic hum
of an alien robot
working tenaciously
to take over the world

like
a series of polite persistent nos
to devious escapades
proposed by himself

while I watch him
each night,
he chuckles

he retorts

he mumbles

he (seemingly) exhorts
invisible armies
towards unimaginable battles

and I wonder -
what if he is indeed
an extraterrestrial spy
(and I get rather excited 
by the prospect,
might I add)

and I wonder -
will I ever get to know
the person he becomes
each night?

will I ever get to know
the person who inhabits
the grey nightscapes in his head
between dreams and daylight,
between memories and midnight?

will I ever?

will he?

---
An ode to a frequently somniloquist, occasionally somnambulist husband! 

244. Death by love

I will not
remember
you
tomorrow

I will not
remember
your grey yesterdays
your checkered hopes

I will not
remember
the moments
when I was you
and you were me

I will not
remember
that I showed you
the world,
or the world I showed you

I will not
remember
that I took you
to the end of the world
to the end of yourself
and let you out

I will not
remember
that I was
your muse
your murderer

I will not
remember
(ah, the small mercies of life)

but neither will you
(ah, the fun perks of death)

---
:D :D

When
you did come,
did you come
for me?

Where
will I go?
Will I go
from here?

243. Yaadein

ik ajeeb rasm
musalsal hai
na jaane kabse

log
zindagi ko
jeete kam hain
aur yaadon me qaid karte
zyada hain

main bhi
har manzar
har lamha
har dayaar
har tajurba
qaid karne ki koshish
me gum rahta hoon
hamesha

magar kyun

ye bhi to nahin
ke ye koshish
apne liye karta hoon

ke main in lamhon se
phir guzar sakoon

zindagi hai hi itni choti
ke unhi tajurbo ko
duhraane ka mauka
milta hi nahin

ye bhi to nahin
ke ye koshish
doosron ke liye karta hoon

ke main in lamhon ki
numaaish kar sakoon
is duniya ke liye

sabhi apne apne tajurbo me
yun masroof hain
ke unhe mere qaid lamhon me
na to dilchaspi hai
na inke liye fursat

to is qaid khoobsoorat safar ka
main karoon bhi to kya

abhi ke liye to
main inhe apne
tees saal puraane
yaadon ke album
me rakh deta hoon
jaise karta aaya hoon

dheere dheere
ye tasveere
zindagi ki dhoop me
pheeki hone lagengi

dhool jamne lagegi
in kahaaniyon pe

aur
kisi din yun hi
in yaadon ki bhi maut ho jaayegi
chup-chaap

aur ham bekhabar se
naye lamhe
qaid karne ki koshish me
chalte rahenge
aadatn
bematlab
bemaqsad

shayad jeena
isi ka naam hai

242. Mistaken for myself

some days
I am beautiful

and on others,
ugly

but most days
I am both,
my beautiful shadows
indistinguishable from my ugly corners

---

some days
I am the question
that keeps changing

sometimes,
I am the answer
that never changes

but most often,
I am that uninterested gaze
the gaze that
neither comprehends
the pointlessness of scrutiny
nor cares about
the intransigence of the response

---

some days
I am hope

on others,
cynicism

and then,
there are days when
I am the boxing ring
where hope and cynicism refuse to spar,
but just sit around,
playing dumb charades

---

fairly often,
I am ill-behaved
performing
to a cheering, jeering crowd

occasionally
I am alone,
keeping me the company
I seek

but there are days
when I cannot stand myself

and I try to flee in vain,
with myself in persistent pursuit

---

on most days
I do not know
I do not notice
that I am happy
too consumed by the choices
of pleasant noise in my head

on others
I feel guilty
I feel too overwhelmed by my happiness
and seek an escape
in narratives
of war-torn cities
of dysfunctional families
of unrequited love in grimy alleys

I bawl

I amuse myself with futile attempts
at letting myself
out of my life

---

some days
I decide who to be
and I am nothing
(thankfully)

on most others
the world chooses for me
and I am way too many useless things
things I never actually am

but today,
I am not sure

why don't you suggest
the story
with which I should strangle
and kill the hours?

and then
I will return
the favor
(and the pain)

so ponder and tell me -
who should I be today?

---

I want to swing from the chandelier - Sia :) :)

241. Ek safar aur?!

baatein banaake aankhen milaake
badle mere daastaan ke ilaake

mere huzoor
munaasib nahin
mere huzoor
munaasib nahin

dekar kiraaye khaabon ke saaye
ghar me paraaye mausam basaaye

mere huzoor
munaasib nahin
mere huzoor
munaasib nahin

----

anjaan shahron ke
anjaan lahron me
hamko abhi bahna nahin

anjaan pahron me
anjaan chehron ko
hamne kabhi pahna nahin

dar-darke jhaankte hain
dar dar pe chaunkte hain

mere huzoor
munaasib nahin
mere huzoor
munaasib nahin

----

sard aasamaanon ka
dard aazamaao to
mausam alag se lagne lage

zard aashiyaanon me
'gar aaj maano to
ham bhi zara sulagne lage

sab phir se seekhte hain
uth-girke dekhte hain

maana ye safar
munaasib nahin
jo ham saath ho
buraa bhi nahin

----

alag maayne hain, alag kaayde hain
alag daayre hain, alag zaayke hain

ye aasaan safar
zaraa bhi nahin

par ham saath hain to
buraa bhi nahin

---

a lot of filmy lately!! :) :) here to stay!

240. Chand roza ishq

udte hue aaya tha, mudke wahin jaaoonga
jhadne lagengi jab saari khushfahmiyaan

udte hue aaya tha, mudke wahin jaaoonga
badhne lagengi hadh se jab berahamiyaan

mere
lautne se pehle, saath mere rah le

saanson me bachi-kuchi si jo ho sukoon to,
noch lenge

khaabon me bichi hui mile mausiqi jo,
naach lenge

---

har kism ka ishq gunaah hai yahaan
bevajah nazrein uthti rahti hain

ik jism ne ishq chhuaa jo yahaan
phir subah khabrein udti rahti hain

ajnabi se rasmon ke
ajnabi se naqshe hain
aankhein moonde rakhna hi sahi tha

bulbulon se lamhon me
bulbulon se ishq hain
inme rab ko basaana hi nahin tha

aankhein khul gayi
ham gumshuda se ho gaye

bulbule bujh gaye
ham bekhuda se ho gaye

---
udte hue aana tum, mudke wahin jaana tum
jhadne lagengi jab saari dilchaspiyaan

udte hue aana tum, mudke wahin jaana tum
badhne lagengi hadh se jab badmastiyaan

tere
lautne se pehle, saath mere rah le

seene me bujhi bujhi si jo ho roshni to
baant lenge

seene me daba rakhi kisine aashiqui to
daant denge

par haan,
ik pal ke mehboob,
is pal ke mehboob,
bhoole bina
kabhi na kabhi
udte hue aana tum! 

239. Satrangi Rooh

andhi rasm kya tolegi
dard apna dard apna
bandi jism kya bolegi
dard apna dard apna

---

ye dard apna kam dard nahin
bas jo ye jahaan hamdard nahin

---

sadiyon me maayne bah to gaye
kanoon-o-kayde rah jo gaye
ik ishq ko jashn kaha sabne
dooji ishq pe jang kiya sabne

haan, mere dil ke mausam hain juda
par meri nazar me - tere bhi alag
mere mausam ko gunaah na kaho
bas jo yun tere mausam zard nahin

---

bas teri sahi muhabbat kyun hai
aur mera ishq galat kyun hai
jab apnon me razaamandi hai
to dilon pe kyun paabandi hai

haan, hai uski ek maashooqa
aur ek deewana shauhar mera bhi hai
par kuch aurat to kam woh nahin
aur haan, main kuch kam mard nahin

---

meri hasrat gard nahin
aur mere gam sard nahin
ye dard mera kam dard nahin
bas tu jo mera hamdard nahin

---

seene me qaid hai rang kai
satrangi roohon ke patang kai
kabhi to aisa bhi hoga
ummeed pe duniya kaayam hai

rooh ye udke kholengi
bekhauff hansi me gholengi
dard mera dard tera

chaunk-ke nazrein tolengi
cheekh-ke nazmein bolengi
dard mera dard tera

---

Feeling a tad vehement tonight!
And yeah, the deewana shauhar part is true too! :)

and most importantly - yes, hame chahiye azaadi!!

238. Reshma

she spots
narratives sprouting on crowded thoughts

she plucks them
to decorate hallways of bright conversation
on otherwise dull evenings

 

she turns

closed doors

into open windows;

showing us colors

intense and intimidating

colors

that have existed all along

unseen by our blind lives

do come by
someday
when you are bored of
your predictably perfect days

your grammatically correct nights
to read her do
ikebana with words
and
origami with ideas

do come by
to let her light your moments up
with bashful candor

 

do come by

for it is fun

to notice life

sometimes!

----

To the girl who tries to see, while the rest walk through the world willingly blindfolded.

237. Closure

the reptilian skies 

shed their night skins,

each dawn;
how we wish we could shed our past too?!

ain't it tough -
walking through these alleyways
filled with razor-sharp shadows
of moments long gone?

these

flickering memories
bickering memories
snickering memories

---

we trade 

shooting stars for empty dreams 

through sleepless centuries

we dress 

tainted music in white noise 

with clenched fists

we brave 

uncomfortably familiar conversations 

for desperate romances

pointlessly
juggling memories
snuggling memories

struggling memories

---
 

we wonder -

why tomorrows cannot be yesterdays?

why everybody puts off

burning those letters 

hidden at the bottom of their chests

of heartbreaks and nightmares

and unanswered questions?

why stories leave us 

but never die
while we sit here

waiting to hear their obituaries?

forever

shuffling memories
baffling memories

stifling memories

forever 

waiting for closure

---

236. Cowards

I checked them, barbed wire fences, out

now, let me sit still
and not make a sound

they are out there
prowling outside my bubble
trying to tell me
that my bubble doesn't exist;
and that, even if it does, it won't for long

I just want to sit pretty
and keep to my pop music,
pop corn
and honey popsicles

but they -
they want to show me reality

I don't let sunlight peek in through my windows
I rather
bask in the hues of my high-resolution screens

lest the world get too real
the world where lives are but public comedies
the world where lives are but private tragedies

but they -
they want to show me reality

d'uh, like I care!
who cares about dead people anyway
or the ones, who will be dead soon enough?

so, I weave barbed-wire conversations
and wrap them around my bubble

they will try to get in for a while
and when they hurt real bad, they will go away.

let me go check on them, barbed-wire fences, again

and if that is what it takes,
I will snarl
I will sneer
I will scream
but I will put them back
my barbed-wire fences around my bubble

because I don't want anyone telling me
that my bubble doesn't exist
and that, even if it does, it won't for long

because I am a coward
but then, aren't we all?

let's just publish our apologies
on our epitaphs