Monday, April 25, 2016

311. याद आएगा


तू कोई और थी
मैं कोई और था

तू क्या थी कौन थी
मैं क्या था कौन था

चल बैठें ज़रा
तो शायद हमें
कुछ याद आएगा

कुछ कह दे ज़रा
तो शायद हमें
कुछ याद आएगा

--

दिखाओ ज़रा
गुज़रे
लम्हों के लिबास
बताऊं तुम्हें
तुम पे ये जचती हैं या नहीं

उतारो ज़रा
तहज़ीब
हो जा बेलिहाज़
बता दूँ तुम्हें
तुम पे ये जचती ही है नहीं

खुलके ज़रा
मुझपे हंस दे

रह रहके ज़रा
मुझको डस ले

कुछ कह दे ज़रा

चल बैठें ज़रा

कुछ कह दे ज़रा
तो शायद हमें कुछ याद आएगा

--

तू कोई और है
मैं कोई और हूँ

तू क्या है कौन है
मैं क्या हूँ कौन हूँ

कुछ कह दे ज़रा
तो शायद हमें
सब याद आएगा

--

I was someone else
you were someone else

who and what was I
who and what were you

let's sit for a bit
and then maybe
we will remember something

say a li'l something
and then maybe
we will remember something

show me the wardrobe of moments you have been through
let me tell you if they suit you

take off this politeness, be chill around me (like you used to)
let me tell you this look does not suit you

come on, laugh at me
pointlessly be mad at me
(like old times)

just say something
and then maybe
we will remember
something

I am someone else
you are someone else

who and what am I
who and what are you

say something
let's sit for a bit
and then maybe
who we were
maybe
we will remember it all

--

This is inspired by my paranoia that I will drift away from the people I am close to.
That, one day, we will become these polite frigid acquaintances who do not know what is happening in each other's life, and do not know what to talk about, and do not know how to laugh at each other, how to jibe, how to be annoyed with each other and annoying to each other.
Scary!!

--

Friday, April 22, 2016

310. Failed attempts at suicide

ugh
come off it

give up the dramatic attempts
at suicide

you have done the same drill for years
now

the trick is getting a little too old
4.5 billion years old
to be precise

you follow us everywhere
and fling yourself off heights
each night

if we are in city
you jump off the terrace

if we are in the woods
you jump off a hill

oh, always in slow motion
might I add

the other night
you upped the drama
and dragged your shimmery cloak of light
ever so slowly
across the waters of the Puget Sound
before you flung yourself off the trees
to your impossible death

but
moon
give it up
you are cursed with a long life
I hear
you are going to be around for a long long time
after we leave

it must be hard to
see
people
species
worlds
things you fall in love with
leave you
behind alone

I know how you feel
(actually I do not)

it must be tough
but well,
you will live
long

deal with it

I could have helped you
kill yourself
maybe
but euthanasia
is not legal anywhere I live

---

PS: I hear you will be doing the same drama in slower motion.

In a short while like 50 billion years, your trip round the earth will be 47 days, not 27 days like it is now.
Ah, so 20 more days to switch between your emaciated and plump looks.

Is it true that you taught the likes of Chrisian Bale and Jared Leto the art of physical transformation for more credible acting?

---

This year, I intend to stay obsessed with the moon. 
Most science stuff is kinda true (according to the Internet at least - like the age of the moon, and that the moon's revolution will take longer, and that the moon is slowly but definitely moving away from us. We have grown a tad repulsive in recent times, even the moon can't stand to stay close and watch.

309. Returning from the other side

what have you become?
where did you go?
you now have more limbs
than anybody knows
you now have more limbs
than anybody wants
just no heart and
too many hands
too many talons
too many fangs
just all screeches
no more songs
no more sorrys
no more thanks

what have you seen?
where have you been?
what have you become?
where did you go?
you have come back somebody
I just cannot know
too many limbs
and just no heart
too many limbs
no breathing parts

308. बहरा

मैं अपने पहलू में
खामोशी
लिए
कितने शहरों से गुज़रा हूँ
कितने पहरों से गुज़रा हूँ

मेरी हम-उम्र हम-सफ़र है
खामोशी
मेरी जुड़वा बहन है ये

जबसे मैं था
मेरे साथ ये थी

पर
जबसे मैं सुनने लगा हूँ
आवाज़ें जैसे उलझ रही हैं
कदमों से मेरे

तन्हा हो गया हूँ मैं
इस शहर में

इस शोर के मेले में
बिछड़ गयी है
जुड़वा मेरी

अब उसके बिना
मुझे ये गुफ्तगू के नक़्शे
अजीब लगते हैं
और ये बातूनी चेहरे
अजनबी लगते हैं

अगर किसी को
खामोशो
मिले
तो
प्लीज़
ज़रा मुझे बता देंगे?

--
a not too terse way of saying the same thing.

was
anchored in silence

is
lost in the noise

Thursday, April 14, 2016

307. Anchored in silence

I was deaf

I am lost now
that I hear

Wednesday, April 06, 2016

306. Response - I

a. Mandy Petit

his name is Mandy Petit
and now he leaves me restless and curious
wondering
what flavour his words would turn out tomorrow
while I warm my hands on his steaming bowl of poetry
wondering
if his strongly dyed metaphors will bleed color
all over my thoughts
leaving me to scrub them
in the cold Seattle rain
yet again

b.

( ...
Has my culture or my gender or my
*insert any category here* 
not suffered enough for your sense of justice to feel appeased?

Or would prefer to see my physical scarring?
Would you prefer I prostrate myself upon your judgement
and sever my own head with the axe you grind?

Does my sex and skin colour
or my faith and heritage 
automatically disqualify me from having the slightest ounce of integrity?

...

Sit with me. Talk to me. Don't give up on me.
If we are going to make this thing work,
we both need grace.

by John Englezos)

what if
I have been reduced
to a label
too often
for too long
I no longer believe
that there can be any
another currency for conversation
but these labels

what if
I have wanted ways out too
but all roads so far
have led me back
to the same place

what if
I did not want
an ax to grind
to begin with
and it does
not belong to me

what if
the pain is too sharp
the wait, too long
to be graceful

walk me out
of here
I don't want to
give up you

--

Sometimes answers do not make sense without questions
Unfair that questions are good by themselves; but answers not so much. :)

305. 8 years 5 kilos 30 rupees

eight years and five kilos of
words and ink narrating all
my fortune and misfortune
and mother unknowingly
sold my diaries as trash
for thirty. well, at least she
got a good price for my past

--

Rehashing an old thought

304. Travelling

I don't want to go places
I just want to go home

the last time
I stepped away from home
to see places
I returned
to an unfamiliar neighbourhood

everything seemed the same
but nothing felt like home
and I didn't belong anymore

so now I keep still
and wait for home to return

people call me stupid
they say
one does not need to be to belong
I tell them
they are stupid
one does not need to see to believe

so I just listen to stories
and look at pictures on the net
to know how exotic
all these faraway places are

I don't need to go places
I just need to go home
or may be keep still
till home comes back to me

Tuesday, April 05, 2016

303. They say

Today's is a guest post. I asked my husband to write me a poem, and this is what he does.

He can’t multi-task,
They say.
With blinders on,
The world around him
Is gone.

He’s very focused,
They say.
One at a time,
Concentration is
Sublime.

He is so intense,
They say.
Watching a screen,
Doesn’t notice a
Loud scene.

He does just one thing,
They say.
Ignoring all,
Follows paths and goes
Awol.

He can’t multi-task,
They say.
With blinders on,
The world around him
Is gone.


So they say.
Yes, they say.
But they’re wrong.


He can do two chores,
I say.
One work gets care,
All the while pulling
His hair.

Monday, April 04, 2016

302. Monday

I was asked
how has your Monday been?

I said
unremarkable

I was asked
why

I turned to Monday
and looked at her questioningly

she was trying hard to be silent
and to not be noticed

ugh
she exclaimed
I hoped
you wouldn't notice
that I am here

I wanted to be less hated
for a change

I was trying so hard 
to be unremarkable

because when people notice me
and they remark
they only make horrible remarks
they call me manic
hideous
depressing
all because I follow the lazy lout Sunday

I hate Sunday
because he makes the world hate me

I felt sorry
for Monday

I have an idea
I said

Monday looked at me
curious and unconvinced

why don't we move 
to another country
I said
I hear there are a few 
where the weekends are different
they come on Fridays and Saturdays

so guess what
the people there 
hate Sundays

Monday rolled her eyes

yeah right
I doubt you would survive there
she retorted
you know 
I would rather I be hated
than you be dead
right?

she winked at me

she drives me crazy
but I think I like Monday
with her penchant for drama and dry humor

she is not all that bad

Sunday, April 03, 2016

301. Introductions

I used to feel hurt
now I don't
now I understand

nobody likes pain
nobody wants to go through pain
nobody should have to live with pain
so we invented
life jackets to protect us from drowning
air bags to help us in car accidents
bulletproof vests to protect us from guns
and lies to save us from the stares, the remarks, the smirks and the disapproval
white lies, dark lies, half lies - all kinds of lies

I wonder why introductions were invented at all
and when they were,
were they invented to explain the presence of people in places
forced confessions like they are now
or did they come to be this way
through the perverse curiosity of people
needing to know more than they need to know

when we meet people
some days I am his husband
and I love it

some days I am a friend
some days I am his flatmate
some days I am someone he barely knows through a common friend
and I am fine with all that too

but some days it hurts like a bitch
when I am just a name followed  by a pause
a pause that neither admits nor denies anything
a pause which is crowded with emotion
guilt, frustration, apprehension, sadness
and it hurts
because
I know
the pause hurts him more than it hurts me
when he looks at me briefly
smiles sadly
and quickly looks away

this is now a well-rehearsed ritual
hiding the most precious things we have
from the sight and opinion of others
like we do not hang our pictures
on walls
but hide them
in private albums
lest people know
we are two men
hopelessly and irredeemably in love

white lies
to save us from pain!?

I used to feel hurt by them
now I don't
now I understand

--
Not completely my story (thankfully!) 

Saturday, April 02, 2016

300. Talk to me

talk to me, love

I see cracks
in the walls of our hearts
let us patch them up
with conversation

I have seen too many hearts
fall apart
when silence came
and lived in the young cracks
like moisture

the monsoons
came and left
but the silence
the insidious silence
slowly ate the insides away
long after the outbursts and downpours had stopped

and harsh words and crumbly pain
started falling out like loose plaster
through the cracks
and before they knew it
their hearts
their homes
fell apart around them

so before it is too late
talk to me, love
talk to me

Thursday, March 31, 2016

299. The poet

you have a real story there
your pain is so real
it needs to be told
it needs to reach the world
you need to be out there
she was told

she stepped out
of her closet
and
wept her heart out in words
through mascara smears
and ink smudges

hmmm
I know I asked you
to keep it real
but your pain is
too dark
too drab
too depressing
too dressed down

could you give us
something with
more color,
less candor;
more curves,
less creases?

you know what I always advise
women
they should always
leave something
to the imagination

so work
on your emotional grammar
and dress it up a little

see if you could give us
something
more current
more 'now'
less in-the-face
you know what I mean
she was told

she walked out
and walked back
into her closet

she was better off
a private tragedy
than a public comedy
in contemporary syntax

Monday, March 21, 2016

298. चलो चलें

चलो चलें
चलो चलें
अपने रुकने का कोई फ़ायदा नहीं

चलो चलें
चलो चलें
उनके लौटने का कोई कायदा नहीं



उलट-पलटके रख दिया
जो भी हमें जहाँ मिला
उथल-पुथल भटक गया
जो राह में जहाँ मिला

दिल जलाके दिन ढला
चलो चलें
चलो चलें



बुज़ुर्ग सी कहानियों का
ज़िक्र करते हैं हम
यूँ सुर्ख सी निशानियों पे
फक़्र करते हैं हम

बता ज़रा यूँ क्यूँ भला
चलो चलें
चलो चलें



यादों में इक जहाँ है
जिसमे अब कोई जगह नहीं
यादों में जो जहाँ है
उसकी अब कोई वजह नहीं

फ़िज़ूल है ये सिलसिला
चलो चलें
चलो चलें

297. Anticipation

she waits
on her deck
for the sun to set

and as he comes
closer to the hills
smearing the sky
orange
behind him

she plucks him

puts him
in the coin slot

and waits
in anticipation

maybe
the sun 
this evening
would be enough
to finally buy herself
a ticket
to a different tomorrow

Sunday, March 20, 2016

296. Anonymous


take away my words

veil all familiar faces

erase all my history

label my desires trivial

strip me of reasons to move

deem me incongruous

and soon
i will become
anonymous

Saturday, March 19, 2016

295. The prophecy

those who skin all the lands
for their vain and vacant reasons
will soon strip all the skies
off all the songs and seasons

for all that they toil for
they will deservedly earn
soon all their worlds will burn
soon all their worlds will burn

those who hail the victors
those who smear the dead
won't last here for long
will soon end near the dead
so mind you - you will survive
so long as you fear the dead

for the dead alone know
all that there is to learn
that all your worlds will burn
that all your worlds will burn

look twice and then some more
before you turn a believer
the truth - she is, but, an old myth
don't trust her at all; just leave her
fools who claim to know it all
their minds play tricks and conjure her
the wise stay wise in distrust
fools alone, ever, are surer

surer still to bring us down
before it will be our turn
and all our worlds will burn
and all our worlds will burn

--
like someone wise once said
better be paranoid than dead

Wednesday, March 02, 2016

294. कहाँ लाए हो पिया

कहाँ लाए हो
पिया

अलग सारे
शहर मुहल्ले

कहाँ लाए हो
पिया

कैसे गुज़ारे
पहर निठल्ले

कहाँ लाए हो
पिया

लाए हो
पिया
कहाँ लाए हो
पिया

--

देखी नहीं थी
पहले कभी यूँ

सर उठाए रंग शाखे
रह गयी दंग आँखें

गहने कई
पहना गयी
आके बहारें
ज़ेवर इनके गल्ले

कहाँ लाए हो
पिया

--

हल्की सी आँखें
भारी सी यादें

बेवजह तंग आँखें
उलझी पतंग आँखें

उड़ न सकें
मुड न सकें
तू ही बता रे
ठहरें या निकल लें

कहाँ लाए हो
पिया

--

A song talking about the marvel and the discomfort, right after moving. :)
PS: Spring is beautiful.

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

293. ये शहर अपना

कोहरे का पहरा
रोशनी का मेला
ये शहर अपना

लहरों पे ठहरा
चाशनी का टीला
ये शहर अपना

--

फींके थे जब हम
इश्क़ करके जी लिए

सूखे थे जब हम
अश्क़ भरके पी लिए


दिलों का काफिला
दिलजलों का ज़िला
ये शहर अपना

लहजा मासूम सा
कैफ़ियत का किला
ये शहर अपना

--

भीड़ में भी बरकतें
तलाशते थे हम भी

होश खोके हसरतें
उतारते थे तुम भी


रंग-ओ-बू पहना
अनोखा मिला
ये शहर अपना

लेके सफ़र मैला
छोड़के चला
ये शहर अपना

--

Leaving home - Mumbai.

292. Power struggles


each morning
wake up
anointed the referee
in battles for power
between the voice and the channel
between the message and the messenger
between the event and the witness
between the curator and the artist
between the narrative and the audience
between the serial offender and the easily offended
between habit and adventure

and 
each morning
i
refuse to pronounce
which is of higher meaning
who the victor is

and 
each morning
i
lose 
the battle
i do not participate in

--

PS: truth changes with the audience. Worrisome, unfair but ... errmmm... true. :)

291. Matching pain from parallel universes


I smiled,
anxious and guilty:

I...

I want a son

in our place
daughters are born enslaved

just born to see traditions and tragedies

slaves
they live too long and too painfully

I can't die
leaving my daughter behind
to live 
like that

--

She smiled back,
embarrassed and sad:

well, I...

I want a daughter

in our country
sons are born enlisted

just born to see wars and wounds

soldiers
they live too little and too painfully

I can't live 
watching my son 
die before me 
like that

--



290. The truth about flying

why do they
lead us down
the same old story lanes -
myths of molten wax wings,
prophecies of malfunctioning parachutes -
peddling false fear of new beginnings
at the end of the street?

& we just take their word
and hide our flying dreams
lest they
give us up
turn us in
let us down
put us out

what if they told us the truth instead?

would we still
follow them?

or would we
find ourselves
new godmen
and seek comfort in old fears?

what if 
they spoke the truth?

--

why do we barter
white lies over drinks
talk about a thousand things
that do not exist
but still insist
on dousing days in their wake?

why do we lie
to ourselves
and the world?

why do we mock
the hopes of others -

hopes like the ones
we all nurse
but are too embarrassed to admit?

why do we
deem it better
to stay hopeless than be hopeful?

what if we spoke the truth instead?

would we still
belong together?

would we still
be scared of ourselves?

what if 
we spoke the truth?

--

why do I look away
when you talk of
soaring through origami clouds?

why do I hide
my vanquished skies
inside a bureau of vacant stares -

lest you notice that
I am but the same
I am just different
I am but alive
I am just dying
I am tethered to the ground
but I still love flying?

what if I told you the truth instead?

would you still
let me in?

can I still
keep my paper wings?

what if 
I spoke the truth?

maybe then
the sky wouldn't be so barren!

-----
I found this in my archives of unfinished poems. Old and incomplete.
Scouting through my books. May be there will a few more that I can salvage. :)

In a fun coincidence,  I saw the movie 'Joy' today - the story about flying when one is told one cannot. :)

Friday, February 05, 2016

289. याद करना

मुझको जब याद करना
बस बेसबब याद करना
तरसते दिन याद करना
बरसते शब याद करना

सुर तोलते थे कभी, पर खोलते थे कभी;
सारे बेताब तलब, मेरे लब याद करना

ताने तराने फसाने, आने जाने के बहाने;
कितनी जानें थी तुम वो सब याद करना

सिर्फ आवाज़ ओढ़के तेरी लेटा रहता था मैं
ज़र्द-ओ-सर्द रातें कभी, बेअदब याद करना

इशारों निगाहों की क़ैफ़-असर ज़बाँ तुम,
सुनो जब-जब जहाँ,
मुझको तब याद करना

मुझको जब याद करना
बस बेसबब याद करना

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

288. मसीहा

आज देखके आया हूँ उसे

वो मेरा मसीहा
जिसकी आवाज़ सुन-सुनके
ज़िंदगी बनाई है
जिसकी आवाज़ चुन-चुनके
ज़िंदगी बिताई है

बड़ा मासूम सा
है वो
बड़ा मज़ाकिया है

वो खुद ही पे
हँसने की हुनर उसकी

जब वो लफ़्ज़ों में
दुनिया दिखाता है
तो ऐसे लगता है जैसे
जान फूँक दी
बेजान से नज़र में

वो बात बात पे
ताज्जुब होना
कैसे उसकी आमद से
पिघलके बरस जाते हैं सभी
छलकके बिखर जाते हैं

वो शुक्रिया अदा करना
क्या खुदा भी कभी
बंदे का शुक्र गुज़ार हो सकता है
भला

आज देखके आया हूँ उसे
जैसे और ज़िंदा हो गया हूँ
जैसे मरके जन्नत नसीब हो गयी हो मुझे

जब कहता हूँ लोगों से
तो पूछते हैं
कोई autograph लिया के नहीं

सोचता हूँ
अगर रोशन रूह को दिखा पाता अपना
तो दिखती autograph उनकी

पर क्या
किसीने भला
रूह देखी है कभी

---
Gulzar | 24th January 2016 | Jaipur Lit Fest

Monday, January 25, 2016

287. Love fugitives in plain sight

don't worry
babu

we will not be caught

i
love you
in a beautiful language
foreign to this world

you
love me
in an intense color
unseen and unseeable
by them

so don't you worry
that we will be caught
by the world

by the ones
who threaten us with death
just because we threaten them with life

they
can't see
the footprints
our voices leave behind

let us just stay hidden
in a shared kiss

let us just
love

Friday, January 22, 2016

286. कचरा

श्श्श्
ग़ौर से सुनो

कैसे
गुर्र्रा रहा है
ये समंदर

ऐसे ही शोर करते
करवटें बदलता रहता है
हर पहर

मैंने सुना है
इसका पेट खराब है
इक सदी से

food poisoning ही होगा

ये शहर
न जाने कब से
इस समंदर को
क्या क्या खिला रहा है

plastic की थैलियाँ
घर में बचाकुचा खाना
कुछ भी

कुछ
भी

ये लहरें न-न करती रहती हैं
पर हम -
हम ठहरे
ज़बरदस्ती खाना ठूसने वाले
न तो हम सुनते ही नहीं

अब indigestion नहीं होगा
तो क्या होगा

अब रह-रहके
शहर के किनारों पे
उल्टियाँ करता रहता है
समंदर

शहरवालों -
अपनी ख़ातिरदारी
ज़रा
बस करो

वरना
इक दिन
इस बेरहम मेहमाननवाज़ी से
ऊबके
जान दे देगा

मैं बता रहा हूँ
हाँ 

285. इशक़नामा

ये कैसी मुहब्बत है खुदा
यूँ ज़िंदगी सिखा गयी है हमें
साँस लेना मुश्किल है, बड़ा
पर ज़िंदगी सिखा गयी है हमें

--

हसीं अजनबी ज़बाँ बोल पड़े हैं
न तुम समझ पाए न हम
हर लम्हा सदियाँ दौड़ चले हैं
न तुम संभल पाए न हम

हर आह इबादत सी लगे
हाँ, बंदगी सिखा गयी है हमें
ये कैसी मुहब्बत है खुदा
यूँ ज़िंदगी सिखा गयी है हमें

--

दुनियावाले ज़हर जो उगलते हैं
ये क्यूँ - जान पाए न कोई
हम अब तुम्हें पहनके निकलते हैं
हमें पहचान पाए न कोई

अजीब है - बेशर्म सी दुनिया
शर्मिंदगी सिखा गयी है हमें
साँस लेना मुश्किल है, बड़ा
पर ज़िंदगी सिखा गयी है हमें

Monday, January 18, 2016

284. महफ़िल

वो
उस तरफ
बैठे रहते हैं
सेठ-सेठानियों की तरह

मैं उन्हें
अपने तजुर्बे
सुनाते रहता हूँ

और
वो
तोल-तोलके
इन तजुरबों को
इनके बदले
मुझे देते हैं
कुछ रोशन मुस्कान

कभी किस्मत
अच्छी निकली
तो
दो चार हँसी के लंबे ठहाके भी
मिल जाते हैं

पर
काफ़ी दिनों से
उनके यहाँ से
मैं
खाली हाथ ही लौटा हूँ

क्या करूँ
आज कल
ज़िंदगी में
कुछ दिलचस्प
होती भी तो नहीं

Sunday, January 17, 2016

283. जोधपुर


महरांगढ़ किले से
नीचे देखे जो कोई
तो
एक फैली हुई
बड़ी बुज़ुर्ग सी
बस्ती
दिखती है
हज़ारों किस्म के नीले रंग पहने

ऐसे लगता है
जैसे
सदियों से
किसी दर्ज़ी ने
फ़ितरत बदलते आसमान के
हर लिबास से टुकड़े चुन चुनके
धूप के धागे से
इस नीले मंज़र की रज़ाई
बनाई हो

शायद
सर्दियों में
जब ठंड पड़ती है
रात में,
ये बस्ती
इस मंज़र की नीली रज़ाई
ओढ़के
सो जाती है

282. उदयपुर

शाम को देखो
तो
पिछोला झील के किनारे
बत्तियों से लिपटे
सारी महले ऐसे लगती हैं
जैसे
रेशम की चमकीली घूँघट
पहंके
बहुत सी रानियाँ
झील के किनारों पे
बैठी है
अपने ज़री के लहँगे
बिछाए

और पानियों पे
city palace की लंबी उजली परछाई
ऐसे नज़र आती है
जैसे
एक नृत्यांगना
अपने सर पे
बहुत से मटके सजाके
रानियों के लिए
भवाई नाच रही हो
बड़ी नज़ाकत से

हर शाम
ये सभा
सजती है
यूँ ही

तुम कभी यहाँ आओ
तो ज़रूर देखना 

281. बर्डवाचिंग

एक मिनिट रुको,
बाबू

देखो
कैसे उड़-उड़के
आ बैठा है
मेरे तसव्वुर के दरीचे पे
ये अनोखे ख़याल का रंगीन परिंदा

देख
कैसे बैठा है
बेताब सा

एक मिनिट रूको

मुझे
जल्दी से
click करने दो
अल्फाज़ों की इक तस्वीर
इसकी

एक नज़्म लिखने दो

वरना
किसी नये लम्हे
की आहट से
चौंकके
ये ख़याल
उड़ जाएगा

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

280. चाँद बावरी

सहमी सी
निकलती है
हर रात
जब हर कोई सो जाता है

पर झील में
खुद की परछाई देखती है
तो
इतराती है

जानती है
वो कितनी खूबसूरत है

और हाँ,
काफ़ी fashionable
भी तो है

रोज़ style
बदलती रहती है

कभी बादलों की stole
पहनके निकलती है

कभी अपना रोशन चेहरा
काले scarf में
आधा छुपाके
आसमान के ramp पे
catwalk करती है
अकेले में

हर शब
यूँ ही
हिम्मत जुटाके
छुप छुपके
निकलती है
बावरी

डरती है
कहीं
कोई उसे style मारते
देख ना ले

लोग कहते हैं
रातों में
लड़कियों का अकेला 
निकलना ठीक नहीं

---
Bravely reclaiming public spaces. 
Sky is as much yours as of others'. 
Night is as much yours as others'.

279. Moon

Continuing with the moon obsession
---

it
crawls
slowly
tentatively
each night

the moon spider

it
treads
the same path
across my sky ceiling
each night

i watch
in anticipation

one of these nights
i am sure
it will
suddenly gobble up -
one of the stars
caught in its web
of moon-light gossamer 

278. Jigsaw

Boy did not sleep well
last night

I had peeled
all the sunny pieces of the day
off
last evening

leaving behind
the empty dark board

all the pieces
but
for the stubborn
radiant piece of the moon
which refused to relent
and come unstuck
from the sky-board

and all through the night
the moon-piece
smugly
kept
peeping through our bedroom window

and you know how
Boy is such a light sleeper

no wonder
he did not sleep well
last night

277. ज़िद्दी

धूप की किरणों के धागे
काट काटके
मैं शाम से
रोशनी की सारी पतंगे
उड़ा रहा हूँ
जो आसमान में भरे थे

अब सारा आसमान
खाली है
काला है

बस बची है
तो इक चाँद की ज़िद्दी पतंग

क्या करूँ
ये चाँदनी की डोर
मुझसे कटती ही नहीं

276. गुरूर

यूँ ही
बुलंद नहीं हैं
हौसले मेरे
हसरतें मेरी

बड़ी शिद्दत से
पाले हैं इन्हे

वक़्त के कितने
टुकड़े खिलाए हैं

होश गँवाकर कितने दिन
नींद गिरवी रखकर कितनी रातें
जमा किए हैं
इनके लिए

तुम्हे
लगते होंगे फ़िज़ूल
ये

पर ज़िंदगी चुकाके
संभाले हैं इन्हे

यूँ ही
बुलंद नहीं हैं
हसरतें मेरी
हौसले मेरे

Thursday, January 07, 2016

275. Rana


I marvel
each time I think of him
and they ask me why

They should see

how
he reaches out
to life
and does not
wait for it to happen

how
he finds
art on dusty windshields
mirth in the company of strangers
music in crowded moments

how
he finds
life in places
it did not know
it could be

how
he coaxes
butterflies
out of unsuspecting caterpillars
to the pleasant surprise
of the world

Ah, but I -
I love the times
he coaxes
caterpillars
out of unhappy butterflies;
and applauds their defiant beauty
and teaches them pride

how
he sends
thoughts draped in radiant words
across miles
to light up,
evenings;
and
to lighten up,
moods

how
he mixes
merriment and maturity

how
he makes
sense seem so eloquent
empathy seem so effortless
immersion seem so enticing

They should see
and they will know
why

I marvel
each time I think of him

and I am not the only one
--

My unassuming friend. 
Thank you.

Tuesday, January 05, 2016

274. Inebriation

hula-hoops
strange time loops
mascara goops
some drinks and ... oops!

--
lest sanity be suspected

273. दुआ

आसमाँ वाले
आसमाँ वाले

आज आजा
आज़मा जा
आसमाँ से
आज आजा

आसमानों
से जो गूँजे
दास्ताँ हैं
सारे तेरे

कैसे पहुँचें
इतने ऊँचे
आसमाँ हैं
सारे तेरे

जान जाए
जो मैं सुन लूँ
आहट तेरी
जान जाए

जान जाए
जो तू देखे
हालत मेरी
जान जाए

तेरी रहमत में
वो पुरानी
इश्क़ फिर से
देख लूँ मैं

तेरी कुद्रत में
इक नूरानी
इश्क़ फिर से
सीख लूँ मैं

सारी राहों में
ज़र्दी भर दे
तेरे नूर के
तेरे नूर के

सारी रूहों पे
पर्दे कर दे
तेरे नूर के
तेरे नूर के

आसमाँ से
आस सुन ले
आह भर लें
आँख भर दे

आज आजा
आज़मा जा
आसमान से
आज आजा

आसमाँ वाले
आसमाँ वाले

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

272. 'Mokokchung'

Philwaqt nahin, yaaron
Dil sakht nahin, yaaron
Kal faqat, yahin, yaaron
Mil jaaye to kaafi hai!!

Tuesday, December 01, 2015

271. Mulaaqat


tum
har roz
jab bhi aate ho
shaffaaf si hoti hain
nazrein tumhari

benaqab se khayaal
tumhare
zara sa
dikhne lagte hain
tere chehre par

aur phir

tum bolne lagte ho

tum bolne lagte ho
kuch fashionable alfaaz
jo har kisike zubaan pe
ek hi jaise lagte hain

is lafzon ke parde me
main tumhe
pahchaan nahin paata
lovely

tere saath rahke bhi
tumhe bahut miss karta hoon

aaj
please
tum kuch mat kahna
main bhi chup rahta hoon

aaj
yun hi
khamosh baithe baithe
dubaara
ik doosre se
milne ki koshish karein?!

270. Excerpts from random mental to-do lists - II


to
step out in the blue shirt
in which I think I look fat;
the one I try on each time
and change out into something else

to
say no to him finally
when he comes home
tonight
I have been trying for the last 7 months

to
sell all the balloons by evening
and buy myself a coca cola
like I do each month

to
take a bat
and beat Raj
next time he bullies me in school
or maybe, I should just change schools

to
binge-watch the series
I am tired of spoilers on facebook

to
vote before I go to work today

to
take my family to Mc Donald's
on Diwali
as promised

to
sew the fall 
on the special red saree
so I can wear it to Mc Donald's
on Diwali

to
push my boss
to have the discussion
on my rating

to
actually walk into the mall
and not walk by it
like I did the last 13 times
I have money now
but the guard looks so intimidating

to
try and get better at maths
and make Papa proud
I cannot fail the unit test,
another time

to
start exercising

to
go to the Ganesh temple
I have taken a vow
to walk up the steps
for 21 tuesdays
I can't tell you what I am doing it for
They say the vow does not work as well then

to
tell her
I love her

to
not give in
and ask my children their pocket money
to go to the bootlegger's
again tonight

to
make tamarind rice
maybe this time, it will turn out right

to
accompany Aai to the bank
though I dislike how
the people there talk down and embarrass us
each time

to
apologize to him
for all the hurtful things I said;
and accept that I was wrong

to be unafraid

to be different

to be brave

to be better

to be

269. Excerpts from random mental to-do lists - I


to waltz off

to walk up

to walk out

to tell

to surprise

to stop

to stay put

to stand up

to speak out

to scream at

to scream

to run by

to run away

to rise above

to quit

to please

to plead

to move on

to look out

to look away

to look at

to know

to give up

to give it another try

to give it a try

to give in

to forget

to find out

to dance

to breathe

to begin now

to be

268. Encounters

each encounter
is
a stamp
on my worldview

I am not sure

are these stamps
souvenirs
from reality

or

are they just
ticket stubs -
a pointless proof
of yet another journey

as I parse through
all these stamps
I worry

I worry
about being an unintentional hoarder
if I hold onto them

I worry
about being a willfully blind traveler
if I throw them away

so
while I figure out
what to do with my encounters,
maybe
I should not
meet
anyone
anymore

Sunday, November 29, 2015

267. The Conjuror

How many parts
moonshine
are you;
how many parts -
moans and sighs?

How much of you
is pain;
how much,
poetry?

How many parts,
mystery;
how much,
misery;
how little,
mercy?

How much of you
is desire;
how little,
despair;
how much,
desolation?

How many parts of you,
music;
and how many parts,
magic?

How much of you
is smiles and candor;
and
how much,
shame;
how many,
secrets?

Does it take
a lot of ferocity to be you;
how much fear
does it take;
how much
freedom?

Very persistent,
was the conjuror
I smirked at, disdainfully
at the bar.
Very persuasive.

Do tell me -
he said
- what you are
made of?

Maybe
I will
conjure you up
tonight
so
I can rid you of
this delusion of uniqueness

I rolled my eyes
and gave him
my number
(to get rid of him)

The next morning,
there were so many of me

I was invisible.

Saturday, November 28, 2015

266. Rahne de


ek arse tak
main bas
tu tha

tere saaye pahanke
teri haqeeqatein maan li
teri naseehatein maan li

khudaa banta gaya
tu mera
khudee bharta gaya
tu meri

mere naam to mahaz rasm the
tune jo kaha
nibhaa liye

ab

naam tere guzar gaye
shaam saare utar gaye

khamoshi me posheeda hoon
main
ab benaam rahne de

bemanzil yun pehli dafaa hoon
main
ab naakaam rahne de

koi naqshe na dikha
naye rasmein na sikha

mujhe
rihaa na kar

meri hasratein
baqsh de
meri fursatein
baqsh de

mere daayre
baqsh de
mere aaine
baqsh de

meri harkatein
baqsh de
meri furqatein 
baqsh de 

meri sohbatein
baqsh de
meri naubatein
baqsh de 

ke
main
abhi jaari hoon yahaan
main
abhi baaqi hoon kahin

haan,
main,
tujh bin, khaali hoon zara

par
main to ab kaafi hoon yun hi

mujhe 
rahne de!?
---

Saturday, November 07, 2015

265. Ajnabi - II

shor ke parde
utaarta hai
har shahar se
ajnabi mera

uski sohbat me
har mod pe mauziki
mil jaati hai mujhe

har nazaare me
nazm koi

---
Kolkata
Boy
70s music

264. Ajnabi

ik haseen ajnabi hai
hamsafar mera

jitna pehchaanta hoon use
utne naye muamme ugaati hai
fitrat uski
har naye tajurbe pe

shukr hai
ye dilchaspi
ik umr me
bujhegi nahin

----
Is love not about finding something new and  adorable, every now? :)
Drunk me!

Sunday, October 11, 2015

263. Dikhayi duniya

ulat palat-ke
dikhayi duniya
dagar se hat-ke
dikhayi duniya

meri nazron pe chadhe rangeen chashme
sadak pe patke;
dikhayi duniya

marzi se andha tha jab main
maar-ke phatke
dikhayi duniya

dheeth hoon main, kam ziddi nahin wo
yun jam-ke dat-ke
dikhayi duniya

be-buniyaad se darr the jitne mere sab
rah gaye simat-ke;
dikhayi duniya

raste hain rasmen - samjhaake mujhko
bhatak-ke bhatke
dikhayi duniya

ulat palat-ke
dikhayi duniya
shukr hai- hatke
dikhayi duniya

---

when I need to go mad
when I need to feel sane -
Sushma & Pidi.



Thursday, October 08, 2015

262. Talaash


sukoon sukoon talaash loon
junoon junoon talaash loon
 

aibdaar se meri manzilon me
koi aarazu, talaash loon

gum se hisse hain kitne mere
inhe, ku-ba-ku, talaash loon

jis mujhse waaqif tha tu, use -
ik pal thahar tu - talaash loon



dikhe na umr intezaar ki
meri justajoo taraash loon

 ---
the pointless endless wait

Monday, October 05, 2015

261. Never enough

I said it

I want to say it now

I will want to say it again

But
each time
I try to profess
this sharp emotion
which bruises my insides
when
I breathe
because
it makes me
want to be more alive
more here
more now...

each time
I do that,
I sense
that something's amiss

I notice
each time
each word seems
more jarring
in its eloquence

I tried resorting
to silence
but it sounds
worse

so tell me

how
does one
profess
a persistent and intransigent
feeling
that refuses to get used to me;
and refuses to let me feel at home;
and refuses to yield to age;
and insists on wielding a new smile and story, each dawn?

and how
does one
ever
profess it properly?

and how
does one
ever
profess it enough?

Ugh,
this love thing!
F*** it,
I won't tell you
how much I love you.

Deal with it!

----
To my one-year-old husband.
Oops, that sounded so wrong. 
My husband of one year? Is that the right syntax?!
Happy Anniversary, Babu-ness!
The year must have been really happy for you; well, you were married to me! *presumptuous dramatic eye-rolling*

Wednesday, September 02, 2015

260. Setting things right

let us avenge
history

because
there are
but
infinite unverifiable instances
of tentative discomfort
scattered over eternity

a life
for each instance
some blood and tears
to drown eternity

and
we are good

let us avenge
history
so
there is none of us
left
to find it
uncomfortable


259. 'Pyaar' ke side effects

they pluck
at all the adjectives
that adorn me

they
find me
astounding

they cannot
keep their curious eyes off
all the stories
that I am

each day
I lose pieces
that you have given me
to strangers
who never knew love
and never may

how do I tell them
that this love
was not mine
to know
to flaunt
to give

how do I tell them
I just was lucky
that
I found you
to leave me love
on each moment of space
on each inch of time

how do I tell them

these strangers
who
find me
inspiring

because I worry

after all my memories
are plucked

what if
they don't find
me
astounding

what if
they don't find
me
inspiring

what if
they just don't
find
me
---

Friday, August 28, 2015

258. Ajeeb


Borrowed thoughts

jab dekha tujhe
na milaa paayi nazrein
ik farishte sa hai tu
ro na padti kahin

ik tinke sa tu
ude saara jahaan
tu hai khaas itna
kaash main khaas hoti

par main hoon ajeeb
hoon ajeeb itni
kya kar rahi hoon yahaan
hoon hi nahin yahaan ki

dard ho bhi to kya
bas ho tu mera
chahoon jism anokha
chahoon rooh anokhi

ho ehsaas tujhe
jab main paas nahin
tu hai khaas itna
kaash main khaas hoti

par main hoon ajeeb
hoon ajeeb itni
kya kar rahi hoon yahaan
hoon hi nahin yahaan ki

---
kabhi kabhi
alfaaz girvi rakhkar
ehsaas udhaar
lena padta hain

I am a creep...
I don't belong here!

Sunday, May 03, 2015

257. Sheeshe aasmaan ke

(or)
the 'morning after' song

maile pade hain sheeshe aasmaan ke
dekh lega koi jo khidkiyon se jhaanke

koi aake hame na pooch le
chalo, taaron ki cheente ponch de

---

kisi nukkad pe hoga
koi dil ka daroga

haanfti yaadon ko jaanch lega agar
kaanpti roohon ki aanch dekhi agar

jaan lega

kab lahre uthi thi
kab lamhe barse
kab uge the tum
mere bheetar se

kab khwahishein
umad-umadke
motiyaan bikher
gayi hawaaon me

jaan lega

yun kyun
maile pade hain sheeshe aasmaan ke

kyun ki
phaile pade hain cheente daastan ke

koi aake hame na pooch le
chalo, taaron ki cheente ponch de

yun na
maile rahe ye sheeshe aasmaan ke
---

If you get the drift, clean up after...

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

256. My storytellers in Morocco

tell me
for I want to hear it all
though I doubt
there are words enough
to tell it all
 
what did you feel
 
when you
saw mile-long wavy blankets
of sand
with yard-long shadows
of self
 
when you
sat atop the ships of the desert
with their long nonchalant strides
and droopy eyelids
 
when you
stood on a dune
with a gust of a desert wind
locked in your hair
 
when you
gazed at an intricate carpet
(which must have taken years in the making) -
a mute audience to the gossip of its makers
while they wove magic with their dexterous fingers
 
when you
spotted a lone tree, a stubborn shrub
holding fort
valiantly and persistently
against the tenacious desert storms
 
when you
chased the sun
blazing down, one hour;
and racing to seek the desert blanket,
the other -
inspired by your footprints
scattered
across the dunes
 
when you
came across
kind strangers in colorful robes
strange kindred souls taken in
by snakes and monkeys
pretty women with bashful looks
restless men with wistful demeanor
 
tell me
for I want to hear it all
 
of the places where you stood and smiled
and the moments of beauty that made you sob
 
of the times you felt like conquerors of eternity
and the times when you surrendered,
conquered by the magnificence
 
tell me
when you find time.
but do tell me,
my storytellers in Morocco
---
 
An ode to the lovely couple who are chasing the sun

255. Ellipses

when someone
smiles at me,
i amusedly
revile.
unsmilingly
i smile
waiting in
denial
that it will be
a while
before
I see
you
'coz i...

i drop strange
messages
to strangers
on sites
trapping in
them, cages
their pointless
delight
uninterestedly
turn pages
on conversations
that fight
to stay
alive
'coz
i...

i drop vowels
into wells
stand still and
mumble spells
wishing that
you hear them
if you do
then do tell
if you are
doing well
'coz
i ...

i am
not

i am
not doing
well

i am
not doing
well
at all

i am
not good
at this

i am
not good
in rooms
crowded
by sounds
of my clucks and sighs
and ticking clocks
and clicking keys

i am
not good
with
sentences
that end
in ellipses

not good
at waiting

not good
at...

---
"You are so fuckin' special... I wish I was special!! But I'm a..."

Monday, March 23, 2015

254. Jhoomar

dard jo beraham hain
ye dard to bas vaham hain
kahte hain log
kahte hain log

dard me toote ham hain
to ham hi hain jo besharam hain
kahte hain log
kahte hain log

peene do
peene do
haan

peene do
peene do
haan

hosh zaalim hai
peene do
jab tak hosh na ganwaa baithe

saanson ko
ginte hain
ham

saanson se
sunte hain
ham

karz baaqi hai
jaane do
kab tak jhakde, apni jaan, baithe

haan
peene do
jab tak
jahaan na dhundhuli ho
ashqon me yun ghuli ho

haan
peene do
jab tak
aankhein na adhkhuli ho
behisi na mili ho

haan
peene do
parde chadhe dard pe
duniya bujh jaaye

(behosh benaam hain
apne aashiyaan shaam hain;
subah aankhein kholenge jab,
hona phir badnaam hai)

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

255. Homeless


i just reached our place

and i realize
i will not feel at home
tonight
for home is where you are

and
no place,
no idea,
no event -
feels comforting
when you ain't around

so come home
to me
& bring my home
with you

because
without you
i am
cold
uncomfortable

i am
homeless

---

an ode to my globe-trotting husband

Tuesday, March 03, 2015

254. Aabshaar VIII

Going back to/taking off from - Aabshaar VII - where I used to periodically say random things that came to my mind without prejudice, or insistence on sense

1. Oh god, I cannot believe how long it has been since we talked

rah-rahke khudaa khudaa na kar
phir mujhko khud se judaa na kar
gam-e-furqat naamanzoor hai 'gar
kabhi phir tu mujhe alvidaa na kar

2. Unexpected knock on a 'chat window'

 Hello
:)

ye kaif-asar muskaan teri, jaan-e-jannat
bata - kaiku rare hai, mumbai sardi ke maafik

-----

Let's call this the phoolan post - for being an inspiration, unknowingly most of the times!

Aur hai yun hi
jaise kaha tha tumne
zindagi meherbaan hai mujhpe
most of the times

And so it is
like you said it would be
life goes easy on me...
 

253. Gunjaaish


inhe hai muhabbat sawaalon se
thahar - abhi inhe jawaab na de

saude taariqi ke baaqi hi rahe
saari raunaqon ka hisaab na de

---

siyaah raaton me rah gaye
rihaa karke subah gaye
kehakashaanon ke
kaarwaan
badhte gaye

sawaalon ka tarajuma
khayaalon ka tajaruba
yun hi saalon se
ye bayaan
karte gaye

udte rahe
gunjaaishon ke aasmaan me
udte rahe

udte rahe
ke
haqeeqat ki zameen
pheeki hai bahut

---

safar me jo mazaa hai manzil me kahaan
jo sach ho sake aise khaab na de

mujhe hai muhabbat sawaalon se
thahar - abhi mujhe jawaab na de

---

let me fly in the sky of possibilities

let me fly,
for,
reality is, but, a dull patch of earth

let no dream come true

ain't the journey more fun than the destination?
the anticipation, more exciting than the event?
the hope of multiple possibilities, more marvelous than one single happy moment?!
 

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

252. The deviant prankster

(or)
the dangers of boredom

(or)
the comfort of multiple standards


oh, god bless us!
he looks bored

that can be
dangerous

---

remember
the last time he was
bored
he peeled the painted black shadows
off the city streets
and
left behind
freckled infant moons
on the pavements

the moons
shrieked gleefully
like banshees
all night
and pooped
dew and star dust
all over the sky courtyard

we had to charge him
a fine
to compensate
for the new black veil
we bought
to hide the starry sky

---

and there was
the time when
he plucked -
all echoing silences,
and jarring politeness,
and charred sense -
off conversations
and confabulations

there were
jazz songs
sung at annual investor meets
shocking the stock market

and, of course
who can forget the
soft porn in the evening news bulletin?!

who knew
news and annual reports are,
but confabulations?!

---

and last winter
he hunted
dreamy hearts
clad in boring grey caution,
winked at them,
and sent them
down a love spiral

ah, the fights and the divorces
all over the city

we had to
banish him
from the city for a bit,
for upsetting the moral fabric
of the society

how he laughed at
us
and winked again?!

so adorably

I remember 
the predictably uneventful season
that followed

sshhhh!!
don't say that

---

not to forget
the season when
he chased and stole the ocean waves
because he was so done
with contemporary fashion,
and stepped out
wearing salty foam pearls
and nothing else

ah, the traffic jams
lasted for months
and we had to charge him
with indecent exposure

and he turned up at the hearing
donning nothing
but butterfly rainbows

what a sight?!

---

anyways
we should be careful
he could outrage our decorum
and upset our honor
again

so we ought to reject
his anticipatory bail

of course
why deprive ourselves of
a hearing?!

---

god bless us!
he looks
so viciously bored

if I were you
I would not step out
tonight

and if I were you
I so would;
and I think I will

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

251. Ajnabi musaafir

woh kaun hai?
aaya hain kahaan se?
 
lagta hai uske lahje se
usne bhi ik duniya dekhi hai
mere jahaan se juda
par shaayad utni hi uljhi
 
uski aankhon me
kahaaniyaan likhi hain
lekin kisi alag tahreer me
jise main padh nahin paata

mujhe poochna hai us-se

kya uski mehfil me bhi
udaasiyaan bikhri rahti hain
baukhlaayi si
anokhi mauziki ki sohbat me
 
kya uske yahaan bhi
log chehron pe sawaal
pahanke nikalte hain
 
kya uski galiyon me bhi
har roz kachahriyaan lagti hain
muqadme chalte hain
jahaan har koi
vakeel bhi hai
mujrim bhi hai
aur qaazi bhi

mujhe poochna hai us-se

par dar lagta hai
uska jawaab sun-ne se

kahin aisa na ho
ke meri ummeed bebuniyaad ho

kahin pata na chale ke
suljhe se mahaul 
mumkin hi na ho

mujhe poochna to hai
us-se
par sochta hoon
yeh sawaal-jawaab karte to hain

lekin phir kabhi

Saturday, February 07, 2015

250. Kahaani har shaayar ki

Harkaton hasraton ka hisaab lagaa gaya
Kaif-asar khwaab laajawaab jagaa gaya
Aadatn aasmaan tatola kisine jo kabhi
Tadapta tarasta maahtaab ugaa gaya

(And that is 250. Kinda. The story will repeat itself.)

249. A recipe for adventure

Or a recipe for disaster (depending on your leanings, the circumstance, and the weather)
 
Half a glass of imprudence
A whiff of a predetermined argument
 
A hint of denial
A pinch of knowing silence
 
Two miles of unruly twilight
 
A jig to music yet to play
unaware of the startled audience
or their absence
 
Four vowels disguised as consonants,
as conversation
 
Obscure desires masquerading as mayhem
 
And then,
wait and watch
 
Or better still,
don't wait
 
Just close your eyes!

Sunday, February 01, 2015

248. Jagraata

soona soona sa hai
maatha mere ambar ka

aake
kuch to dikha de re
koi aadha toota chand hi sahi

---

banjar hain meri rookhi sookhi palken

likhe gin ginke
khaate sab chhin ke
kaati saari jagraate yaadein masalke

aake
phir se chakha de re
ummeed ki jhoothi boond hi sahi

---

banjar hain meri rookhi sookhi palken

sapne bhi banjaare
gaye kabke saare
khaali khuli meri aankhon se nikalke

aake
phir se sikha de re
thodi kachhi tooti neend hi sahi

---

Saturday, January 24, 2015

247. Words

A Translation
----

what language is this
that we speak in?

the more the words we speak
the more their purpose
seems to fade away

as if emotions are sad
to step into words
as if they wish to remain
frame-less and nameless

as if pain is embarrassed
to don sounds
as if it wishes to live
unclothed and silent

do you remember
we
had set up home
once
in a deaf-mute moment?

come on

let's sit still and silent
for some time
and see

who knows
maybe we will return home

who knows
maybe we will come alive
again

Friday, January 23, 2015

246. Zubaan

yeh kaisi
zubaan hai apni?
 
guftagu karte karte
zindagi ke maayne
bujhne lage hain
 
jaise udaas hain jazbaat
lafzon me utarke
jaise unhe bejism gumnaam hi rahna tha
 
jaise dard sharminda hai
awaazein pahanke
jaise unhe belibaas khamosh jeena tha
 
yaad hai
hamne
ghar basaya tha apna
kisi goonge-bahre pal me
 
chalo
kuch der
dekhte hain
chup baith-ke
 
kya pata
shayad ghar laut aaye phir apne
 
kya pata
shayad zinda ho jaaye
ham
phir se

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

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?

Saturday, December 06, 2014

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

Friday, December 05, 2014

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 :) :)

Saturday, November 22, 2014

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!

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

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.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

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
---

Saturday, February 15, 2014

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