377. बंद रास्ते/ Band Raste

ये हम क्या कर रहे हैं, जान?

हम इक दूसरे को
झूठे मुस्कान
और खोखली गुफ्तगू
परोसते हैं
हर पहर

इक वो वक़्त था
जब तुम्हारे मुस्कान
पढ़ पाती थी मैं
और उनमें
इश्क़ के न जाने कितने नक़्श
मिलते मुझे

मेरी रूह
तुम्हारी आँखों में घुली मौज़ीकी सुनके
रक़्स करती

हम बिना कुछ बोलो
कितनी बातें कर लेते थे, न?

और अब

अब
तुम मेरे सामने बैठे रहते हो
और मैं तुम्हे तलाशती रहती हूँ

नाकाम सी कोशिशें
करते रहते हैं हम
फिर से इश्क़ उगाने की

पर
उगती हैं यहाँ
तो बस इक उदास सी खामोशी
जिसकी न कोई वजह है न इलाज

काश कोई बताता हमें
के रिश्ते ख़त्म नहीं होते
बस बेमतलब हो जाते हैं

और हम बस इन्हें निभाते जाते हैं
जैसे ये कोई बेबुनियाद रवायत हो

न याद है
की ये शुरू किया ही क्यूँ था

न उम्मीद
की ये ख़त्म होगी भी कभी

काश कोई बताता हमें

376. Deadends

What are we doing here, babu?

We serve each other
stale silence and fake smiles
each day

There was a time
when your silence would narrate
fresh fantasies
each moment

and your smile would take me
on journeys to worlds
that I didn't know existed

I scour your presence now
to find that person
I loved

and fail

I ask you how your day was
and you shrug

You ask me if I am ok
and I nod slowly

we act like we care
and sometimes we actually do
but neither of us knows the difference anymore

I wish
someone had told us
that relationships don't end

that time just wears them out
and they morph
into inane rituals
of disdain and indifference
and drag on

that we hold on
not because we want to
but because we have nowhere else to go

I wish
someone had told us
that it hurts when things end
but it hurts way more
when they have no way to

I wish
someone had told us

375. दर्द / Dard

कहने को तो हम साथ हैं
देखने को हम एक जैसे हैं

लेकिन तजुर्बो ने तेरे
तुझे किसी लंबे सफ़र पे
भेजा है
और मेरी ज़िंदगी ने मुझे
कहीं और

कहने को हम बोलते तो एक जैसे हैं
पर मसले अलग हैं
अल्फ़ाज़ एक जैसे
पर मतलब अलग हैं

ऐसे में हम एक जगह पहुँचते कैसे

हम हम-उम्र तो हैं
पर दोनों मे
अपने अपने उमरों का फासला जो है

तुम्हें माँगना सिखाया है
मुझे देना

तुम्हें चलना
मुझे संभालना

तुम्हें उड़ना
मुझे मुड़ना

तुम्हें खुद पे फक़्र सिखाया है
मुझे बस फिक़्र

तभी तुम
लोगों को
फरिश्ते नज़र आते हो

और मैं...

मैं लोगों को
नज़र आती ही कहाँ हूँ!
--

I was thinking about the  lingering heartache when one is treated all along as a lesser being. The heartache of being invisible to the world. Though sexism and patriarchy informed this thought. This could as well be about race. About religion. About caste. About class. About ability. About identity.

As Damini remarked, we are sent/send such different messages about our places in the world - our abilities, our rights. What we owe. What we deserve. What we can do and desire. What we can expect and ask from life!

374. Homesick

I sit alone
rocking gently
to soothe myself
over a cup of ginger chai
quarantined on this planet out of orbit

My soul is sore
from all the contortions it does
to clear out all the lifetimes I hoard
so that
I may have space on my mental shelf
for foreign seasons and forever falsehoods

I started
dressing everything I eat
with grated ginger and asafoetida
to remember the taste of home

I do this from the day I noticed
that I am forgetting all the places I can no longer be in

I am forgetting them
faster than
I am learning to feel at home where I have to be

And I worry

I worry
that soon
home will just be a moment
stuck in a memory I cannot recall

I worry
so
I sit alone
rocking gently
to soothe myself
over a cup of ginger chai

373. Autumn Desires

Will you come by
to decorate my songs
with rhinestones?

Roll with me
in a pile of
autumn-colored ideas?

Help me
pluck off music
stuck in my hair after,
while I dust off foreign metaphors
off your coat?

Will you help me
make dessert-y boozy drinks
with star-dust, nostalgia, fair-trade chocolate, and almond milk?

And when we are high
on hope and humor,
we could hop down
cobble-stone memory lanes
and teach everyone
how to dance?

Well,

We will be so fabulous
the world will join in

We are so fabulous
the world has to join in

We were always so fabulous
the world couldn't but join in

Or if that is too much,
we could just grab some coffee sometime
and smile in silence
at possibilities!

What do you think?! 

372. Arrival

he
arrived
a little later than planned

he
arrived

and
switched the sky on
as soon as he arrived

and dragged out,
the sun hiding behind
vermilion cotton candy clouds

yes,
he arrived
like he meant business

he
arrived
with a helmet of well-coiffed hair

prepared
to join the army of three

armed
to bring the world down
with kindness and cuteness

determined
to wake the world up
to possibilities

and if i were you,
i would surely place my bets
on these three

like they say,
tomorrow will be here
no matter what

and
tomorrow
just arrived

--

PS: Bodhi is here, joining Ishan and Sai. My nephews breathe life into me each time I meet them. And inspire and encourage and join me in my hope for a kinder better world. So everyone everywhere join me in a celebratory jig.

371. Bridge to reality

my reality
was an acquaintance

we were born around the same time
reality was someone i grew up around

not too close
more like
a polite civil distant equation

we had mixed feelings
about each other
acknowledging each other
warily
once in a while

and then
i met you
and realised reality was your friend

we all started hanging out
more often
and realised that
reality ain't too bad
so i met reality more
had fun together
most times
we met

except for times
like this evening
when i meet with reality
in a strange fun city
without you around

walking down streets
with buildings holding up the sky
over wayward traffic

sharing an IPA
at a boisterous bar

over awkward silence

reality and i
we both agree
we are better off
with you around

so next time
join us

Ok?

--

NYC
Missing boy
19 July

370. Springtime epiphanies

i used to
watch the cherry blossoms sway wildly
each spring
and wonder
if they were dressing up
and dancing in the breeze
with glee

and now I think
i got it wrong all along
i think they are
just tired of playing dress up
and standing on display

they are just wriggling frantically
to get out
and move away from this planet
of 7 billion people
who just don't care

---
Climate change 

369. The mansplainer

do not
bother yourself
with such frivolities
my love

you are built
for beautiful things

do not
attempt to understand or explain
you are too exquisite and delicate
for such unglamorous endeavors

allow me
the honor
of telling you
how you actually feel

what you actually know

why you actually are

because
you do not know
anything
about yourself
while
i...
i know all there is to know
about you

so allow
me the privilege
of presenting you to the world
and silencing you to beauty

--

368. Misplaced nostalgia

there were times
when
we really wanted this

and
there were also reasons
we rather not have wanted it all

but now that
we do have it

we cannot seem to forget
the reasons we should not have

nor can we seem to remember
the times we wanted this so bad
or why

why is it
that we can never find
what we are looking for
in this house?

ugh.

---

367. Reasons for silence

is it that
i cannot talk
about the the only things
i really want to
talk about

or is it that
i only want to talk
about the things
i really should not
talk about

366. Camouflage

people
wear camouflage to
pass
unnoticed

i
wear
my own name and face
as camouflage

a name
made of so many unspeakable parts
a face
that i share with a billion others

and just like most camouflage
there are many places
they make me completely invisible
and there are few places
they make me way too conspicuous

but just like most camouflage
there is no place
where my name and face
feel like
they completely belong

365. Freefalling

living in a place
with too many skies
and just no earth

i flew
till i could
no more

and
now
i am freefalling

and will
forever
now

---
( You scientist folks, don't get technical and ask me how am I freefalling. With no earth, there should be no gravity, hence I should just be floating. F*** you, it's a metaphor)

364. Imagined

i have a habit
of missing that person sorely
someone I did not know at all

i think
often
if they were here
what would my world be like?
would I be me?
or would I be a different intriguing heart-breaking story?

i have a habit
of missing that person sorely
someone I have never met

i think
often
if they were here
what would I talk to myself about?
when they would leave snowy solitude at my doorstep,
in the fleece of which language
would I murder the loneliness?

i have a habit
of missing that person sorely
someone, i do not think actually exists

what does one do

when the excuses for complaining
are just so hard to find
then one has to weave one's own pain

the good thing is
that
i am told
i am quite creative

---

can one miss something that one does not know exists?

363. ख़याल

आदत है मुझे
उन शख्स को याद करना
जिन्हें मैं जानता भी नहीं था

सोचता हूँ
अक्सर
अगर वो होतें
तो कैसा आलम होता
मैं मैं होता?
या होता कोई और दिलचस्प ग़मगीन दास्ताँ?!

आदत है मुझे
उन शख्स को याद करना
जिन्हें मैंने कभी देखा भी नहीं

सोचता हूँ
अक्सर
अगर वो होतें
तो मैं खुद से कैसी गुफ़्तगू करता?
जब बर्फीली तन्हाई छोड़ जाते वो
तो मैं किस मखमली जुबां के आग़ोश में
क़त्ल करता उसका?!

आदत है मुझे
उन शख्स को याद करना
जो शायद कहीं हैं भी नहीं

क्या करूँ
जब गिले के सबब मुश्किल से भी नहीं मिलते
तो खुद दर्द बुनने बनाने पड़ते हैं

अच्छी बात ये है
की
मैं वैसे काफी creative हूँ!

---

Can you miss something that you do not know exists? :)

362. कबूतर

हर सुबह
जब मैं
अपने आँखों की खिड़कियाँ खोलता हूँ
उस चेहरे का मंज़र देखने
तो
पर फड़फड़ाता हुआ
आ बैठता है
सीने में

इतना हल्ला मचाता है
और
ज़हन में रखी चीज़ें
उड़के बिखरने लगती हैं

जान निकली जाती है
हाँ

लाख मनाऊं तो भी नहीं सुनता
लाख भगाऊँ तो भी नहीं उड़ता

इसके रहते
न सांस मिलती है
न नब्ज़ चलती है

इस बदमिजाज कबूतर
का नाम
इश्क़
न जाने किसने रख दिया

उफ़!!
कोई मुझे warn तो करता!?

361. The calendar-keeper

let me warn you
not to visit her

she
lives in
a day of many seasons

each hour
she sprouts a hundred
naive ideas
restless thoughts

each hour
she blooms a hundred
colorful dances
of passion and wrath
and love and regret
and exuberance and desolation

each hour
she sheds her being
in crumbly words
and sits in an empty hull
shrouded in
dark silence
and white noise

let me warn you
not to visit her

those who visit her
do not live long
but they live longer
than they wished they did

360. शाम की चाय

इक वो दिन थे
जब रोज़ बीसों घंटे
धूप भिखरी पड़ी रहती थी
आँगन में

काश
मैंने धूप के कुछ सिक्के
उठाके
जमा किये होते
किसी गुल्लक में

ऐसे किया होता तो
अब जब हर दोपहर
तीन बजे
रात होने लगती है
तो गुल्लक फोड़ के
सौदा करता
जल्दबाज़ दिन से
के
कुछ देर और ठहरा करे

क्या है की
मुझे शाम के  चार बजे की चाय
यूँ
अँधेरे में  पीने की
आदत नहीं है न

359. An argument with death

why do we fear you
i asked, defiantly
when we know you are inevitable
why
i intend not to

death smiled
well, why would you not
fear me

well
you will die
and you will cease to exist
all the things that you thought
and said
and did 
and saw
and felt
and wanted
and hated
and planned for
and accomplished
and won
and lost
and loved
and lived
there will be no sign left of
most of it
and soon the last memories of you will fade
you may remain as a name
maybe
or mostly not

you will cease to exist
and you will not even know 
that you have ceased to exist
even if you really really wished for it

you will never know the end of most stories
that surround you
and you will be a story past 
none else will care about or have time for

so in essence
all that you make this life out to be
is futile
and acknowledging that thought 
makes you sad and unsettled

so you choose fear 
fear is a good surrogate for sadness
you might as well pretend
that you do not know what happens
when you die
and that scares you

better be afraid of what comes later
than be sad about the uselessness of what is now

so you pretend
and you turn me
death
into 
a poem
a parody
a person

like you are doing now
and have a fake argument
just to escape the need to accept the pointlessness of your being

so now you see
why you 
much rather fear me
because 
the alternative 
is to seek me
in hopelessness

That is how
i
lost
an argument with death

358. Boxes

packed in boxes

i had left aside 

a lot of books

planning

that 

when i find time

i will release 

all these imprisoned stories

some day

patiently

all these books

sat waiting

for a long while

in hope 

of the right time

slowly 

their pages

started turning

that familiar brittle yellow

and then 

one day

i opened the boxes

and saw

that all the stories

had aged

so much so

that

they crumbled and fell apart

at the slightest touch

i

looked at them

and smiled

we seemed

to share a story

have not i

been sitting patiently

in wait for the right time

so I could

free the story in me

maybe

one day

when i open my eyes

i will find myself

worn by time

turning that brittle yellow

and my story tender and no longer relevant

and 

when someone

comes by

and touches me ever so slightly

with care

would i crumble 

and fall apart too?

--

Translating 348.