Monday, November 14, 2011

221. The Sky Songstress


It was not until
She came along
that algorithmic silence
was so hummable

She would sit
and tune the skies
while the tone deaf evenings
and pitch dark nights
rumbled on

The skies were Her swan song

The now-intolerably-altered song
still plays to
packed audiences -
the seasons,
the undiscerning yet devoted seasons
the unfashionably fanatical seasons

She fled
when they started re-writing her work
(the people who talk in inspired whispers
of things they knew little about
of things they could do little about
of things they cared little about)

She fled and now
She keeps to herself
while She walks through strange silent towns
to hide from taunts of unfinished songs

The winds,
which hoot and whistle in applause
to the off-key skies,
turn mute when they hear Her hum

and She wonders -
would She have felt less miserable,
if She were a song and not a songstress?

Sunday, November 13, 2011

220.

muskaate-hanste the, gurrate-danste hain
saleeqe seekh gaye, zamaane ke, kuch ham bhi

ittefaqn sukoon jo mile, bechaini hoti hai
jo dard se ishq sa ho, sazaa lage marham bhi

guzarte hisaab se hai saare paaband pahar
manaaye do pal ke jashn, bas do pal maatam bhi

tasveeron ke teelen bahut sajaate to hain har jaanib
par bun-ne ko yaaden yahaan, waqt hai kuch kam bhi

rah rah-ke sulagte hain, rah rah-ke baraste hain
haan, apne hi jaat ke hai is shahar ke mausam bhi

------

Ruko. Gaur karo. Dekho -
Mehfil me kya rakha hai!
Lutf uthao to safar ka zara.
Manzil me kya rakha hai?!

Tuesday, November 01, 2011

219. Identity

 I bring the blinds down
 though the streets outside are deserted and dark
 double-lock the doors
 turn all the lights off
 and return to where he lies

 I sit by him
 and close my eyes tight

 needless as it be

 I run my fingers
 over him
 over
 the ridges
 the contours
 the grooves
 familiar yet cold and hostile

 I want to learn him
 by rote
 because knowing him was owning him

 I was free  till now

 because I belonged

 But
 now?!
 
 Now 

 that he leaves me
 unfettered,
 I sit here
 just a name
 trapped in his history

Saturday, August 20, 2011

218. belihaaz shahren

  phoonk-ke bujha chali, abr surkh-o-zard se
  pharsh pe chodke kahkashaan gard ke

  bezubaan raat ye,
  badgumaan raat ye
  jaa rahi hai;
  jaane do!
  ------
  dareechon se jhaankti
  zakhmi khamoshiyaan jaanchti
  har dar se lagaake kaan
  goonjti aahen sunke kaanpti

  aadatn tatol-ke,
  har makaan, raat ye
  jaa rahi hai;
  jaane do!
  -------
  isi shahar me the aashiyaan
  khamosh se, syaah se
  moondi aankhon pe jahaan
  milte the khaabgaah se

  kab se hai talaashti,
  wo aashiyaan, raat ye
  jaa rahi hai;
  jaane do!
  --------
  aahaton me uljhe log, bejaan, sard se
  jeb me liye nishaan gumshuda dard ke 

  ise batao, bas ab yahaan
  sukoon ke mazhaar hai
  rakh-ke girvi neenden apni
  har shaqs bezaar hai

  kya karegi, rahke bhi
  ab yahaan raat ye?!
  jaa rahi hai;
  jaane do!
  ---------

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

217. Dreams

You come by
every now and then
You don't tell me why
neither do I ask you

I mix us both drinks
the usual,
just a tad stiffer
than the last time
(we need it)

My living room
is where I sell you
reassurance and endurance

You stopped talking
the night I stopped listening;
so now I do most of the talking

They say purple umbrellas are the in-thing, this monsoon
Did you hear of this new salon that has opened up?
Ah, my boyfriend - he is such an adorable sleep-talker

All this while I notice –
the purple bruises on your ankles
the blisters on your hands
your eyes sore with fear

But no, we don't talk about all that;
Why wish away our woes, when we can pretend and make-believe?
What we don't acknowledge, does not exist!

You listen
You get high
You slur
You want to be silent
but your stares are intrusive and questioning
and then I know -
you are ready for the same old lies

And then I lie
about hope

I talk of statistical proof
I talk of super heroes
I talk of human kindness
(and the play I saw last night, that made me choke)
I talk of
how a lion adopted a baby antelope
in Kenya, not too long ago

It is all about faith
It is all about learning to wait

What else do I say
when I know - what you want; and that  you want it bad
when I know - you try; and that you try hard
and I know it is still not possible

So I lie
about hope

Good - you know not
that hope
is just another four lettered profanity

Good  - you know not
that I have buried,
in my backyard,
about two dozen
bruised dreams like yourself
murdered by skepticism

And while you fear that
the end may just be around the corner,
I hope that
the end actually is

Saturday, May 14, 2011

216. Indignation

do you know what it means
to be oppressed?
to be labelled?
to be categorized by presumptuous humankind?

do you what it means
to be thought that
what you stand for
what you feel,
what you are,
does not warrant
respect
consideration
understanding
or
at the very least, an attempt at any of these?

do you know what it means
to be thought of
as irrelevant...
and worse still,
inconsequential & disposable?

do you know what it means
when it's a foregone conclusion
that you are not as human as the rest of them?

I know.
I noticed what it means.
I thought I was free.
Yet, I chose to walk out last night
foregoing the right
to hold the hand of the person I love most,
my boyfriend.

For the fear
of being arrested or worse,
I walked out
foregoing the right
to hold his hand.

For I am gay.

& there was a mob of moral police
waiting to make the world a better place.

a better place?!

Thursday, May 12, 2011

215. choohon ki daud (rat race)

 samjhaana bujhaana to hai shauq sabka ich
 kuch bhi jaane na jaane samjhaane me kya hai?

 aise ich har din hamshaql subahein mile aur
 pooche - "be-shaql shab me gum jaane me kya hai?

 saare manzil ye gar ret ke hain mahal to
 yun hi gumnaam se tham jaane me kya hai?"


 main bola - "miyaan, aise load le re tum kaiku
 daftar, manaane ko maatam, jaane me kya hai?"

---------------

logaan nahin, aise ich baataan karte jaa re, karte jaa re!!!
kya soch le re ki kya ki, maaloom ich nahin!!!!

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

kuch apni bhi aql thikaane shaayad nahin hai, sadiq
ke har subah yun be-aqlon ki mehfil me chale aate hain

213. Midnight Confessions

Tonight
the room smells of silence
and so I hum to myself

But it doesn't suffice

I need you around to
make this flawed reality
a little more tolerable

I want you to hunt it down 
with your electric racquet
and tie it up 
in a barbwire of conversation

(we are way too sweet with each other
usually)

We could talk of
this
that
and the other

Oh, you love to travel!
I love it too...

I particularly love
this one trek
from behind your pierced ears
to your stubbled chin,
and further!
Ah, what a view?!
(yeah, It's like my private resort
and I intend to keep it that way)

We could mumble midnight confessions
and fumble in the dark
and stumble upon unspoken places
and crumble to nothingness 

We could;
could we not?!

Well,
tonight
our room smells of silence
and I hum to myself

But it doesn't suffice

I need you around

I could say that
I need you to mint memories
but they are too potent
and pointless

I could say that
I need you for eternity
but that is too trite
and trivial

I will just say that
I want you now
now
however long that be

So 
come
defuse this night,
for loneliness is intolerably symmetrical

So
come
let's go on a midnight trek again,
and stumble upon another unspoken place
----------------

Some penguins do fly!! :)

Saturday, March 05, 2011

212. Journeys

1.
1.
2.
2.
3.
3. ?!
3. !
3.!!
4. !
4. !!
5. !
5.!!
6.!
6.?

7.!
7.!!

8.
8...
8..?
8.!?

9.?
9.!

10.!

11.!

12.

13

14

15

16


-------------------------


Love knows no grammar or arithmetic!!
Stay put and love will find its way... it has always!!

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Untold Stories

When the evening starts breathing heavily
twilight
silently slips away
a shade of red, however, still stains the sky

As the evening steps off the sky
a crowd of shadows settle in my courtyard
to gossip
about the things that happened through the day
about this, that and the other

how the maps have started to change faces
how the days have started to melt away
who was trying to fill moments in empty chasms
whose love is shifting loyalties
where are colors out on strike,
and why in heaven are they so?


some complaints
some judgements
some questions
some advice

I turn witness to these conversations
each night

If there be a hint of your name
I sit by and listen to stories all night long
in desire of a few consonants
in this crowd of shadows

There are many stories
lying
restless and impatient
somewhere inside me too
waiting to be told
Come by sometime to chat me up
won't you please?!


------------------------------------------------------
An old Hindi poem re-written in English for certain audience!!

Monday, September 27, 2010

210. Free

what makes you think
i want to be free?

what makes you feel
you ought to come to my aid
and liberate me?

how do you know
that i have not quit flying
at will?

why do you think
just because the sky is wild
i need to follow suit?

why do you think
i will find freedom
'invigorating'
'intoxicating'
or all those fancy adjectives
you picked up in books?
(Did you hear of 'nauseating'?)

so much for your claims of empathy
you refuse to see
i love my cuffs

so much for your campaigns for my liberation
you choose to do my thinking
for me

oh yes,
you want my future
captive to your vision
of how I ought to live tomorrow -

free



Friday, September 03, 2010

209. The Biographer

He did not bother me much then

He just wanted me
to rearrange his past.

You know,
how memoirs ever so often
need a facelift

He showed me
his years with creases of crudity
which he wanted me to paint over
with ink

He led me down dark alleys
to his ugly stone secrets
which he wanted to do away with

You see,
I did not have much experience writing fiction
But I had significant experience
in starvation
which I did not need more of
So there,
I agreed

I never wanted to make history
I preferred writing history
for well, what is history
but the choice of the scribes
who anoint heroes to hide their flaws
and label villains to hand them claws?

So there I was,
publishing his black & white portrait
concealing more more than revealing

Writing the history
of my choice
to his liking

And he died a happy hero

Some read it
and rewarded me with sighs
of boredom and disbelief



Then I realised
there must be a reason why
good news and case studies
only find a weekly column
in most dailies

Then I also realised
there must be a reason why
gossip
fills scores of pages
in most dailies



And then
I rewrote history
a scandalous one

Whoever said
“do not pan the dead;
the dead are always virtuous”
(but of course,
one needs to be alive
to cultivate vices)


I brought out his ugly stone secrets
ah, what a museum?!

They do not talk ill of the dead
in public
but then,
they take more delight
in seeing heroes fall
than in seeing them anointed

And you see,
I did not have much experience writing trash
but I had significant experience
in starvation
which I did not need more of

So there I was,
publishing his portrait
in color this time
exposing the sinner
who left, unpunished

I went easy
on the blue;
(red is in vogue
every other season
& definitely more scandalous)

Many read it
and rewarded me with whispers
of interest and disapproval
& then many more read it

He does not bother me much now
particularly since the time he died

He was a good man, I guess!

---------------------------------------------

"I wonder how different would our lives be if we were to find out that our history is half farce & our heroes much more so." - The shelves

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

208. Aa gaya

dil mera nayi tajveez koi aazamaane aa gaya

kooche me mere phir koi sukoon ganwaane aa gaya


dekhne mujhko deewana, aata hai dar pe har pahar

mahak utha mehfil hai - dekho, phir muskuraane aa gaya?


maasoom in dilchaspiyon ka bas main nahin kaayal yahaan

main kam-z-kam dhoondhoon sabab, wo bin bahaane aa gaya


ham-nasl nahin wo, lafz-o-lahje uske kuch judaa se hai

phir mujhe mehfil me apni zubaan banaane aa gaya


khwahishon ke kaafile khatm ho bhi to kaise, bata

ek armaan bujha nahin aur ek lubhaane aa gaya


wo gaya tha dareecho pe pehnaake peela aasmaan

din dhala to mujhme phir thodi shab bitaane aa gaya


khwaabeeda lamhon me guftagu ka lagta hai shaukeen bada

rah rahke neendon me naye naqshe bichaane aa gaya


kaash waaqif hota aashiq, muhabbat waqfe leti nahin

daayron me yaaden bhar bharke faasle bujhaane aa gaya


jab dekhta hai woh mujhe, uth-ta hai khaabon sa dhuaan

phoonk phoonk-ke wo apne naqsh-e-nigaah mitaane aa gaya


pyaas pala hoga bahut paimaanon ki talaash me

mere labon par, dilbar, apna munh jalaane aa gaya

--------------------------------------------------------------------

guzarte mausam ko karna nahin tha aahon me gumraah yun

apne mausam ke bichde hisse, aasmaan uthaane aa gaya

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

207. Monotony

let me out
let me out
I have been this restless
for quite a while

let me shout
let me shout
from my steel fortress
of a fake smile

I see no
hope
nor consequence

I seek no
shape
and no substance

my fortress -
it dodges accidents
which I seek around corners

but I want one (so bad)
I want a navy blue
denim clad accident
to break open
the padlock
to get over
this bad shock


I want to sleep
and sob
and stretch
and swear
Oh!
I want an accident so bad

and I am not alone...
they are so many around
in this crowded city of electronic sounds

but there are more rules than tools
and there just aren't enough fools

how will I ever find an accident
stuck in this city of
airconditioning and airsickness
traffic signals and tragic chivalry
?

let me shout
let me shout
from my steel fortress
of a fake smile

let me out
let me out
I have been this restless
for quite a while

Monday, May 24, 2010

206. Dodging Alliterative Exclamations

I am aware
I am awake

But let me ignore
the knocks on the old oak door

Let me ponder instead
about
the convenience of prejudice
the uncertainty of emotion
the sanctity of stupidity
the reliability of dreams & dead-ends
the ambiguity of dynamics
(and the dynamics of ambiguity,
if I may)

Let me pretend there is more
to this evening than mere sighing bliss
Let me paint a little pain
Let me amuse myself
Let me marvel

What lies beyond that oak door
but happiness?!
Well, they say
I am already as happy as they come

So let me ignore the knocks for a change

Let them wait -
the thoughts of
porn and projectiles
paandus and piñacoladas

Let them wait-
the alliterative afternoons
with nondescript happy endings
(& snappy 'bending's)

Let them wait
It's been a while
since I traded words for gasps

You still ask me why?
Did you not notice that
for many a month now
happiness has been the pain in the ass?!

You know what I mean!

-------------------------------------
-------------------------------------
While we are on alliteration,
Voluptuously virile V**** valiantly verbalized various vagaries vindictively!
Sexy sweetie S********* somnambulantly saunters streetwise singing slokas somberly!!

:D :D :D :D

But of course I did not come up with them.
I do not possess such talent, do I? They just inspired me to explore alliterative alternatives! :P

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

205. Security Check

No,
I should not have packed them;
and now the guards
are going through
my luggage-
scanning through all
the unfinished conversations
I stuffed in my suitcase

I can sense their smirks
behind their straight faces

I should not have packed them-
all those embarrassing conversations
But I did!

I was in a hurry!!

-----------------------------
Until a while ago
my city of yesterdays
was sequestered

the city
where
I stood by the tracks
and waved at trains passing by -
trains of thought
full of stories
with blurred faces

the city
where
the sky was wide
and wept too much;
and words flew down
to dance on my terrace

the city
where
I sowed smiles
by the side of blue evenings
and by dawn,
the streets would be abuzz
with laughter

the city
that knew
no ketchup
or aerated drinks
or accidents
or running water

yes,
the city was sequestered;
but now
it is open for me to return.
---------------------------------------------

I had to hurry
in my bathroom slippers
and an unpressed shirt;
but in my city,
they never notice these things!

So I hurried,
only to find all the tickets
to yesterday are booked
All the roads are jammed
All the flights are full

So yet again,
I booked
a round trip to noise

I will drown in the din again
and maybe this time,
discover my pseudonym

If only they let me go

A few sighs more
and the flight will take off-
but they are still scanning
through my unfinished conversations

-------------------------------------
Culture Shock - the much needed vacation!

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

204. All in the name of...

I think I will charm
the maverick moon –
the one that hangs high
when he is in the mood

I will roll him a joint
and sit with him on a branch;
I will wait for him to pass out,
but then you know why?!

I am in love with a werewolf
& so I have not a choice,
but to pin up the moon
on my bedroom window sill.

So I think I will charm
the maverick moon -
the one that hangs high
when he is in the mood
--------------------------
:) :) :) :) :)
Are dinosaurs extinct?
Are werewolves mythical??!
:) :P :D

Tuesday, February 02, 2010

203. Khat

sochta hoon
khat me ik nazm likhke
tumhe mere khayaal
tohfe me bhej doon

likh doon

kaise
har subah
main tumhare sapne sambhaalke,
utaarta hoon aankhon se
aur takiye ke neeche
chhipa deta hoon
(haan,
wahi khaab,
jo betaab se kaanpte rahte hain
aankhon me raat bhar
aur kabhi kabhi
din ke beech-o-beech)

kaise
intezaar me
lamhon ka hisaab lagaata hoon
to pahron pe shikan se ban jaate hain

kaise
main ajnabi lafzon se
rishte jodta rahta hoon
judaa se lahje pahanke
nikalta hoon
aaj kal har kahin

kaise
khwahishon ke kaafile
ummeed liye mere dar khade rahte hai
jab din ke paar utarta hoon
to us paar bhi mil jaate hai

kaise
hawaayen saazish kar jaate hain
aur jab main bekhud sa baitha rahta hoon
baraamde me
to tumhari mahak sa bikher dete hain

kaise
muhabbat se fursat nahin milti

kaise
rooth-ne ko jee karta hai
ke tumhare khayaal
ik chote waqfe ko bhi
tanha nahin chodte mujhe

sochta hoon
mere haal-o-harkat
alfaazon me baandhke
bhej doon tumhe ik khat me

mujhe pata hai
tum mujhse bandhi
lafzon ke gaant
khol nahin paaoge

mujhe pata hai...
tum bas mujhe phone karoge
aur udaas sa chehra banate hue kahoge
"Sweetie, you know I can't read Hindi"

par mujhe ye bhi pata hai,
ke tum apne fridge pe lagaake
yaa apne jeb me rakh-ke
is khat ko dekhoge
baar baar shab-o-roz;
aur chuu-chuu ke
is peeli si kaagaz ko
mera naam loge
aur muskuraaoge...

bas isi liye sahi,
sochta hoon
aaj tumhe ik khat likh doon
-----------------------------------
Like I said earlier,
Bezubaan bhi nahin, hamzubaan bhi nahin
guftagu kya kare tu yahaan bhi nahin!!

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

202. Padosi

phir se darwaaze band kar jaaye koi
band kamre me kahaaniyaan
bikhri rahen

ranjishein parose ek mausam
aur guftagu ke chand cheente
chidak jaaye khaamosh deewaron pe

sulagte se
do kadam faaslon me
ek jazbaat chadhata tha
dheemi si aanch pe

woh rasm ik rishta tha
jiska naam kabhi mila hi nahin

sulagte se
do kadam faaslon me
jo baat thi
meelon ki dooriyon
me wo baat kahaan?

phir se chulhe pe
ubalne ko
pahren chadha de koi

ghar pe taale lagaake
nikalta hoon har savere
phir har subah
kuch taraana gungunaake
tasavvur pe chod jaaye koi

mujhe phir se jhagadna hai
phir se dekhne hai daraawne tasveeren
aur bedaar baithna hai raaton me
phir se besabab gappe ladaane hain
phir se taane maarne hai
kisi na kisi ko
har shaam

thodi si peeli roshni ke parde
pahnaa jaaye
aur eent ke is bakse ko
phir ghar banaa jaaye koi

mujhe khule darwaazon
ki aadat nahin rahi
phir se bagal wale kamre ka darwaaza
band kar jaaye koi

---------------------------------
well, yes - miss is happening!!

Thursday, January 07, 2010

201. Frayed Thoughts

Sometimes things change! taking off from Cotton Thoughts !!!

-----------------------------
The seamstresses scout for the satin smile
while thoughts fray
& the last few grains of sand in the hourglass
remain slaves to arithmetic

I look out of my window
You look at your sky
We patch it up
with blue
pieces of conversation
the blue in my heart
the blue in your eyes
the blue of the sky...

When I refuse to move,
I smell of you.
I was still when I began.
I am,
still.

Art is still my chosen pastime

None else would
weigh this silence
weigh the sky
weigh your sight
weigh my smile;
aren't they all nothing?

Art is the pastime of a desperate heart

& to kill hours in desperation
while I sit still,
I
don stone deaf metaphors
so you can catch me unaware
& unwrap words
to find tremulous blanks underneath
for you to fill with love bites!
---------------------------------------

Yes, intolerable miss is happening off!!!

Monday, January 04, 2010

200. Unusual Winter

You have left
a winter
on my trail
unlike any I have seen before!

each night
while the trees dance
in the cool silvery breeze
and shed
their crisp yellow leaves
you visit me

I shed
two strands of dreams
on your pillow
and a dozen inhibitions
in your bed

and at dawn
I find
a heap of star dust
in my backyard

while you toss
restlessly
in your sleep
each night
does your sky
shed
stars too?!

Is your winter
as unusual as mine?!

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

199. The Tippler

there always is
some rum in her glass
and some scandal on her trail

while the rest of the world
opens eyes
each morning
to a new day
with stale hope

she stirs from her sleep
to a new past
each noon
and unwraps the night gone by
with obscene anticipation

but then
she has always been one
to turn her back
on rules;
or so they say

she refuses to plan

plans are such addictive armours
against accidents.
it is a shame-
people plan

accidents are such charming things.
the pleasant ones kill cynicism
and make futile memories,
and the unpleasant ones-
they make for such appetizing gossip
over alcohol

and thus
she dances on


while each night
adds some more red to her cheeks
and some more adjectives to her stories

while each night
gifts some more snickers
to her dwindling set of denouncers
and sends some more admirers to the grave

she dances on


what does it say of her
if intoxication
is the mainstay of her immense appeal
and sobriety?
Oh, of that, one has not heard much!

what does it say of her
if intoxication turns her into a celebrity
and sobriety, a celibate?

what does it say of her
and what does it say of the world?!

---------------------------------------------

She still knows not what she did last night! :P :P

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

198. Uljhan

maine kabhi
ik nazm ka haath
saunp diya tha
kisi musaafir khayaal ke haathon me

woh musaafir to
nazm ko mere yahaan chodke
ab kuch laapata sa ho gaya
aur woh nazm ab bhi
mere dil me baithi hai

kabhi kabhi jee karta hai
main is nazm ko
kisi aur khayaal ke sang
byaah doon

par main kisiki dulhan ko
kisi aur ke saath
bhej bhi doon
to kaise?

is uljhan me
main us gumshuda khayaal ke lautne ka
intezaar karta hoon
shab-o-roz

aaj subah bhi
main phir yun hi
us khayaal ko khojne nikal hi raha tha
ke mere dil me baithi nazm ne kaha -

"abe o nikamme shaayar,
bahut hua!
apne tahriir ka joda pahnaake
mujhe kisi na kisi khayaal ke saath
ab to kisi kaagaz me bithake

bidaa kar de

kise pata
woh mera shauhar khayaal
kabhi lautega bhi ke nahin

nautanki band kar

aur jaldi mere liye
dooja dulha khayaal dhoondh!

kyun 'drama' kar raha hai?
apne liye to

kabhi 'monogamy' me
'believe' hi nahin kiya!

bas mere paas aakar
'moral science' shuroo?"

Sunday, November 29, 2009

197. shaq

khaab the

woh betaab se

the machalte


jal gaye

raakh mal gaye

jalte jalte


aag kisne lagaayi

jaan kaise ganwaayi

kya pata

kya pata


tu tha yaa woh thi, aawaaz jiski suni thi

kya pata

khayaal the yaa ham the, mausam tha ya roshni thi

kya pata


gunehgaar laapata

aetbaar laapata


phir bhi sab se sab mile

ab mile tab mile

jaane kab kab mile

haule haule shab chile

par besabab se lab khile


silsile phir chale

dil jale mar chale


woh kaun tha

kya pata

-------------------------

roshan se shab aur sahar siyaah nikle

kya kahe aabaad ya tabaah nikle

kab se mushq-e-rooh gum hai

ab to ashq-o-aah nikle

kyun bhala

kya pata

-------------------------

tauba ki jagah ab to waah waah nikle

muqadama chala, saare begunaah nikle

qaazi gumraah nikle?

qaatil khud gawaah nikle?

kya hua

kya pata

-------------------------

gunehgaar laapata

aetbaar laapata


phir bhi sab se sab mile

ab mile tab mile

jaane kab kab mile

haule haule shab chile

par besabab se lab khile


haqeeqaton ke kaafilen

jise mile mar chale


woh kaun tha

kya pata

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

196. Embarrassment

I am allowed to indulge myself!!!
(nose in the air and looks away and recites)
------------------------------------------------
aeroplane
aeroplane
shame and pain
not again

window seat
window seat
close your eyes
and be discreet

chief chief
cake'o'beef
country thief
oh what grief?!

shake a leg
shake a leg
ostrich egg
tries to beg

ogle ogle
giggle giggle
oh my god! why
did i wriggle?!

brief brief
handkerchief
no fig leaf
disbelief

felt the heat
felt the heat
neither could i join
nor could i beat!

not again
shame and pain
aeroplane
aeroplane

Monday, November 16, 2009

195. entropy

a hint of vitriol
a glimpse of violet
two seasons of a sun soaked in
a sea of many scented shades

no

seldom are such riots - by design;
the inconsequential precursor may have been.

else
would algorithms not have spurred romance
and levers -
would they not have spawned love?

but well,
they do not!

not thought through too well,
i agree;
nonetheless
history has always been
but an afterthought

sigh!

Monday, November 09, 2009

194. Chambalimericks - I

yet again I am off to chambal
wrapping myself in a warm kambal
all I want is a daaku
brandishing his chaaku
who would come use me for a dumble

but well, there are none in Morena*
no daakus shooting in the arena
And I'll jus sit and grumble
under my breath I'll mumble
daaku ke bina yahaan jee kare na!
---------------------------
*My current client location, bah!

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

193. Gaye

gaye gaye chale gaye
saath saare maamle gaye

palate bhi to do pal ko bas
muskuraake jaan le gaye

unke aane ki tayyariyon me
manzar sabhi badle gaye

aaye to dekha saare naqsh
bure gaye. bhale gaye.

ab to gayi nazdeekiyaan
saath saath faasle gaye

kiya bhi hai to kya kiya
mile. gaye. mile. gaye.
....
thande kaandhon se the gile
ummeed hai gile gaye

....
No no... false alarm in previous post.. season's good and so am I!!
:D :D :D

192. Halloween

Of pumpkin lamps and pauper kings
candy wrappers & tramps & paper wings
and though I'm told all are lies and more
the hope does stay

i make signs and mime for all to see
none notices; all see through me
but still i'm sure if i try some more
they will look away

make polite sounds and drink their martinis
look in disdain and enquire what this is
they act like they've got some strange disease
now can't you say?

i never wished to play the game to lose
coz i clearly can't see the use
but i have not found the words to refuse
not till today
----------------------------------------
My annual bad mood time is here! Beware!!

Monday, November 02, 2009

191. Horcrux

ignorance is bliss
sometimes;
sometimes,
just a convenience

How many have died silent
excavating the relics of silence?

How many others
have been been convicted
for sacrilege?

and the nights, they fray
holding on tight
and the days try to slay
the invincible

do not seek the secret
to the silence
that parades by my dreams

i live safe in fetters
inside the cold tomb
pronouncing
visitors guilty

do not seek the secret
for once you know,
i will be no more.