Thursday, 17 January 2019

कुछ अल्फ़ाज़ बस यूँ ही-27!

अब ये कमबख़्त शाम गुज़रे,
तब जा कर कहीं रात आएगी,
फिर वो रात आधी उम्र बीत जाने के बाद
शायद सुबह में तब्दील हो,
और आप हैं कि सोच रहे हैं,
दो कश के धुएँ में वक़्त गुज़र जाएगा.
अगर हम जैसों को सुकून मिल जाए तो,
उस बेग़ैरत सुकून के हक़ में क़सीदे कौन पढ़ेगा.
जिस दिन अग्नि ग्रहण करना आ जायेगा,
उस दिन राख की जगह तेज में हर अग्नि लिप्त
अंश तब्दील हो जायेगा.
पूछ रही हो ना क्या छुपा रही हूँ?
चलो बता देती हूँ, जब तुम पूछ ही रही हो
अपना डर छुपा रही हूँ,
डर तुम्हें खोने का, तुम बिन होने का
लो बता दिया, अब बताओ, क्या करें?

रहने दो, तुमने ये सोचा नहीं है,
सोचना भी मत, कहीं ये ना लगे की हम कुछ हैं
वैसे भी तुमसे होगा नहीं,
तुमने कौनसी बेपनाह मोहब्बत
और बेबाक़ इज़हार किए हैं.

तुम जाओ, आबाद रहो, आज़ाद रहो.
अरे तुम तो शुक्र मनाओ कि तुम,
प्यार नहीं दूसरा प्यार हो,
कहीं पहला होती,
तो समझ नहीं पाती
की हम तुमसे प्यार करते हैं,
या तुम्हें जीते हैं.
ये क़िस्सा है, कहानी नहीं;
यहाँ हर आग़ाज़, यलगार में तब्दील नहीं होता.
ना जाने कितनी रातों को सुबह की अज़ान में तब्दील होते देखा है, अब तुम्हीं बताओ नाउम्मीद हों भी तो कैसे।
इस तरफ़ से तुम मेरा नाम गुनगुनाओ,
उस खिड़की से मैं ताल दूँ,
एक इश्क़ ऐसा भी हो,
जिसमें सुर और ताल का संगम हो.
कभी रात को सुबह होते देखा,
कभी सुबह को शाम में तब्दील होते निहार लिया,
कुछ रोज़ उनकी बेरुख़ी को इंतज़ार का नाम दिया
कुछ दफ़ा तन्हाई को अंजाम कि तरह सराह लिया.
अरे वो क्या लौटेंगे जो हमारे ज़ेहन से कभी गये नहीं,
हाँ, अगर उनकी बेरुख़ी ज़रा कम हो जाए तो बताना,
हम भी कुछ गुफ़्तगू, ज़रा सी मुहब्बत कर लेंगे,
वो क्या है की दिल तो आख़िर दिल ही है ना.

Sunday, 13 January 2019

If I had a fork in my hand...

If I had a fork in my hand
At this time, I’d pierce it
Right into my heart,
To see what’s it made of
Is it steel? Or glass?
Or is it just stale blood
That would ooze out of it.

The warmth in my blood
Is not there anymore
Been a while I felt
That heartbeat
The one which dances
To the tunes of dreams
And not the one which
Is made to fear wretched screams.

Had you asked me a while ago
About how I felt, I’d say explosive
The one who’s head could explode
But today if you care to ask
I’d just say I’m too tired to even
Acknowledge the numbness.

The sleep and the smiles are not mine
I didn’t know when sadness and sorrow
Abandoned me in the middle of nowhere
This breathlessness would kiss me
And leave, as I crave for fresh air.

I know, I told you I’m a warrior
I am sorry, I am not, I failed
Can I please get back to
Being a loser self and a failed warrior?

Saturday, 5 January 2019

Out of love - 97!

You spent all your life
Building those tiny boxes,
Of walls and locks,
How will you know
What captivity and freedom are
If your dream is to create a cell,
So dark!
Amidst this race of
Getting this and that
Didn’t you forget
What you had?
That's the sorcery of knives
They are of two types, blunt & sharp
The blunt, the one which refuses to rip apart
Yet hurt immeasurably
The sharp, which cuts, rips, hurts, let go
The former is like an heartache,
The latter is your gold old heartbreak.
Don’t be so cold my love,
That even the winter doesn’t,
Make you feel the warmth of
An innocent shiver.
It’s okay, you weren’t trained to deal with fire,
Not surprised, that you and I couldn’t co-exist
But those make love to the mellows, don’t indulge in one night stands with the merry.
How much pain is enough pain?
What amount of longing, is sufficient longing?
Till when should your fire, consume you?
Will the dark, translate into light?
Can plight, convert itself into might?
Is the end, going to begin?
Even if you’re stretched from left and right, hold on to your centre, the moon said to the moon gazer.
Wars are attention seekers,
They demand to be warred with grace,
Nope, not fought,
Fights are too petty to even touch the stature of war.
What is soulful?
A sip of perfect latte?
A blanket of loneliness?
Warmth the winter beholds?
A hug from you?
A full moon?
Is it real?
Is it an illusion?
Did the Gods trade it?
Did a devil inhale it?
Is it lying in something green?
What. Is. Soulful.

Wednesday, 2 January 2019

But how do you begin?

But how do you begin,
Before it has ended?

It, the long god forsaken battle
That I’ve been dreading on good days
And losing on the bad ones.

That battlefield where you bleed
Without a drop of blood
Making love to the soil,
The war ground where you’re
Left abandoned without weaponry.

The battle needs to end,
The soil demands to be loved
The warriors needs rest,
An end is needed,
A start is craved.

Monday, 31 December 2018

That day when...

When they’re planning
All the parties with
Fairy lights and sangrias
Us, the warriors
Sitting right here,
Looking at the moon
Are just secretly wishing
To not bleed inside on just that day.

That day, when they celebrate
The new, and forgive the old
The day, they change digits
And believe in a fresh streak of hope
Just that one day, can’t we warriors
Not war with ourselves, our insides?

On that night, they’ll pop the champagne,
While we on our ever so vulnerable borders
Will just be dreading an unknown attack
With our arms and ammunition tied on
To our chests and head
We’d just wait for no new war.

Us warriors, have no new year
New month, new week, new day
Our never ending wars,
Lost and won battles
Misery and glory have become
Oh so stale,
Yet there are no new joys and sorrows.

Us warriors, are stale
Our days don’t change
Even after the sun and moon
Have made enough love
No new day or night is born
It’s stagnant, painful, hurtful.

No new, no old.

Friday, 28 December 2018

How do you believe, your words won’t matter?

How do you believe, your words won’t matter?
The words in which you’ve wrapped
All your hate and anger,
Which you’ve chosen to spit on me,
Who’s oh so useless,
Like a box, that you’ve chosen to
Not even discard in a bin,
It lies right next to you
On which you have
Stomped, pissed, cut
All this while.

How do you believe, your words won’t matter?
When they’ve sucked all the strength
I mustered this morning
To sit right across you
Even after I knew
That I’m an Un-disposed trash for you.

How do you believe, your words won’t matter?
After they pull out all my hope
Warrior spirit, fort-holding ability
In less than a minute.

How do you believe, your words won’t matter?
When they wound each numb part of me
That all my memories of pain come back
As if they were never gone, with time.

Your belief is a delusion,
Your words matter,
Your words kill and hurt,
Your words have power
That no weapon in my infantry
Can combat, you are superior
Don’t kill the inferior, please.

Wednesday, 19 December 2018

कुछ अल्फ़ाज़ बस यूँ ही-26!

तुम्हें पाकर खो चुके हैं,
अब ना हार का कोई मतलब है,
ना जीत का वजूद.
ज़िंदगी बसर हो गयी
उनके जवाब के इंतज़ार में
और वो हैं की कहते हैं,
तुम ज़रा बदल गए हो.

अरे कोई इत्तला करो उन्हें,
की बदलेंगे हम क्या,
बस यूँ समझ लें कि
पहले जवाब का इंतज़ार था,
अब बस ना उम्मीदी बची है.

आज बड़े दिन बाद वो वाला दर्द हो रहा है. वो वाला जो तुम्हारे जान पर हुआ था. हाँ! वो बात और है जब तुम गए थे तो आँखें नम तो हो गयी थी, आज तो कमबख़्त अश्क़ ने दग़ा दिया है. सब जल रहा है मेरे अंदर, लेकिन कुछ राख नहीं हो रहा, बस जले जा रहा है. जब कुछ राख बन ही नहीं रहा तो आग बुझेगी कैसे? आग बुझेगी नहीं तो दर्द थमेगा कैसे?

वैसे तो ठीक है, होना चाहिए ऐसा दर्द, पता चलता है कि दिल ज़िंदा है, क्लब मरा नहीं है.

तुम्हारी आँखों को पहली बार देख कर ही समझ गए थे की कुछ बुरा तो नहीं कर सकते, और देखो आज तुम्हारे चले जाने के इतने समय बाद भी तुम्हारी याद ज़िंदा होने का अहसास ही करा रही है. अंदर आग जला रही है, कहीं महसूस करना भूल न जायें इसलिए आज फिर तुम्हारी एक और दग़ाबाज़ी पर बड़ी आशिक़ी आ रही है.
कोई जुदाई चाह रहा है,
कोई रिहाई के ख़्वाब पिरोह रहा है,
इन सबके बीच एक वो भी है,
जो जुदाई के लिबाज़ में
रिहा होना चाह रहा है.
उन्हें करना ही क्या है,
मुस्कुराने के सिवा,
क़सीदे तो हमें पढ़ने
पड़ेंगे ना याद में.
अगर वो समय से हमारा हाल भर ही पूछ लेते,
तो आज इतना बेहाल तो ना होते,
वो जिसे हम प्यार समझते थे,
वो साथ तो दूर,
चंद लम्हों की हमदर्दी से नवाजना भी,
मुनासिब नहीं समझते थे.
बोझ ख़्वाहिशों का नहीं,
ख़्वाबों का है,
वो ख़्वाब जिन्हें रुकसत तो कर दिया,
पर ख़ुद को रिहा ना कर पाए.
ना जाने कितनी रातों को सुबह की अज़ान में तब्दील होते देखा है, अब तुम्हीं बताओ नाउम्मीद हों भी तो कैसे
ये क़िस्सा है, कहानी नहीं;
यहाँ हर आग़ाज़, यलगार में तब्दील नहीं होता.

Friday, 14 December 2018

Do not talk to me about: Magic and miracle!

Do not talk to me about
Magic and miracle
I have survived in gas chambers
I know it’s real.

I have made peace
With breathlessness
Restlessness, sleeplessness
Is that anything less than a miracle?

After all these days
In a little black hole
My eyes still see
A bit of red and yellow
Is that not magic?

After all this while,
I have managed to survive,
Without a cut that outshines
My dark soul’s sight.

If this is not magic and miracle
Then what is?
A unicorn’s rainbow fart?

Thursday, 13 December 2018

Do I even tell you?

How do I tell you,
What it is when you
Don't understand how
Different heartbreak and heartache are

How do I tell you
When you believe is
Just as okay as anything
Because it is not a nightmare

How do I tell you
My faith in passion
Is as real as your
Faith in God

How do I tell you
That there is something
To tell....

Do I even tell you?

Wednesday, 12 December 2018

Out of love - 96!

What is good and bad,
Heaven and hell,
Joy and sorrow,
Whole and hollow
When all that exists is
Just darkness in light.
My love for you,
Is like darkness,
Constant, fearless, soulful
Your love for me,
Is like light,
Heals, fades, ends.
Feet on ground,
Hands in pocket,
Chin up,
Eyes glued to the moon,
As I wait for the worse
To make love to the worst.
Play with my demons
Fiddle with my hair
Massage my scalp
Set the commotion in my head on fire
To cool me down,
Put me to sleep, tonight
But for us, the ones who let go a part of us in the end to keep the spirit of beginnings alive, a heartbreak is nothing, sorrow is nothing, what is, is just the infinity that we seek from our reflections on some days and few nights.
Every time you say,
that miracles don't happen,
neither overnight nor in a well worked fortnight
I ask you to zip your lips

for you and I know
what we share is miraculous
we have seen magic,
we have been magic,
and if magic isn't a miracle
if you and I aren't a miracle
then what is?
we exist, miracle exists.

Open your soul, close your eyes
kiss the magic, be the miracle
The devil in me,
Makes you Gods and Goddesses.

The demon that I am,
Is the reason why you’re angels.

Yet, I bow down to you,
Unconditionally, unapologetically.
It is in lights nature to scatter and shatter,
Unlike the darkness which wraps you in its arms and stays,
Always not forever.
Right next to the fire,
Waiting for it engulf
The self and it’s being

A tear trickles down
The warrior’s eye
As it watches
Fear, dance to the tunes of
One day, there will be no need
To combat the days
And suffocate through the nights.

One day, it will all be fine,
But till then,
You shall have to bleed, breathe and strive.

Thursday, 6 December 2018

Wanting to write!

All these days and months and years,
I have been wanting and craving to write,
To you, for you, of you, about you;
There’s this urge to articulate everything
That chose to exist between us, for us.

I have to thank the moon and the stars,
The early morning sun and the birds
For making me believe in magic & passion
In dreams that fuel life’s fashion.

But what do I write,
How do I come up with words
That suffice what it is
To feel what has not been felt.

Who do I write to?
Who are you?
Are you even...?

Are you the moon,
That keeps me company all night
Or the fresh dew on the flowers
That brightens up my smile,
Or are you the darkness
That resides in me.

Oh wait,
Are you the me that I seek
As I sip this coffee
The me that I’ve been trying
To chase as I lust over
The existence of a peaceful sleep

You see I’ve been wanting...
A bearable version of me,
How will I ever write
To unknown me?

Monday, 3 December 2018

Half a decade.....!

What is it that you want my child?, she asks. An ultra strong glass of coffee for now, I reply. She stares at me, goes in the kitchen, makes coffee just like the way I love. 3 spoons of coffee, half a spoon of sugar, milk and a bit of caramel. Dayum! One sip of it and wooosh goes all the stress, sleeplessness, tiredness, mess. She didn’t forget it. Even after 5 long years she didn’t, or did she choose to remember? I don’t know, but the coffee, it took my heart and soul.

I could’ve traded anything and everything for it. I have been drinking coffees at the fanciest places and have also enjoyed a coffee on the roadside, but the thing about her coffee is, what it is.

Its been five years since I showed her my face. That’s a while I guess.

She comes out of the kitchen with a glass of coffee, it must be her coffee, the one she drools over, black and sweet, yes she likes it like that.

She sits on the couch, I’m seated on the arm chair, both of us are too involved with our coffees. It seems as if familiarity of the taste is oh so enough to evaporate the cyclones in the head.

After a couple of minutes, I ask, so how’s life been?, “Umm...quite nice, I’ve expanded the kitchen. It’s become more spacious now. I spend more time in there,” she replies.

“How good are you?” she enquires, pretty good I say.

There’s silence, we know we are not saying what it is, but i think the silence is familiar like those times.

Sunday, 2 December 2018

So you tell me!

So you tell,
You wanted to hurt me
At the right places
So that I realise and rework
On everything including myself.

So you tell me,
That you meant to hurt me,
While I believed that
You couldn’t think about
Causing the slightest bit of pain to me.

So you tell me,
I needed to be a better person
As I wasn’t the best version
That a human being could be.

So you tell me,
I loved you too much
And so you didn’t bother
To love me, even a bit.

So you tell me,
That you tell me everything,
And I don’t tell you anything
....this...yes, this is where
I stop you,
You know why?
Because to tell,
You need someone to listen
And you can’t spare time for that.

So now I tell you,
To tell a tale,
You’ll always need someone
Who falls for you, fails to win you
Burns to light you,
Exists when you want to “Tell”
A tale, turmoil, task.

Wednesday, 28 November 2018

Tonight, I must write!

I must write something beautiful tonight,
And so it shall be about you,
The definition of my beauty and solace.

I must write about you tonight,
For I need to feel beautiful, always
I am beautiful, just like you’re always

I must write about the rhyme
That you are to my unarticulated poetry
The one that I long for each time I scribble

I must write about the joy
That your presence brings to my life
The ease that massages my soul.

I must write,
For you,
For me,
For ......
The universe?

Tuesday, 27 November 2018


What do Goddesses do?
Do they get angry?
Do they feel the need to get angry?
Are they holding on to the anger?
Are they containing volcanoes?
Will they explode?
Will the feminine care evaporate?
Will they look into the eyes of the universe and choose to let it deal with the mess?
Will the Gods be accountable?
Will the Goddess be free of responsibility?
Will this stop?
Will it be okay?
Will the Goddess accept she’s stronger than Trishakti?
Do Goddesses know they’re Shakti?
Are we all hunting for ourselves
Under the garb of soul searching?
Are we Goddesses?
What is a Goddess?
Who is a Goddess?
Does she know she is a Goddess?

Monday, 26 November 2018

Out of love- 95!

Of course, it was unreasonable,
Illogical, it was not my love,
You were love,
Are now a pain,
Yet my definition of solace
Remains in you.

You, love.
Stillness and restlessness can co exist, but you and I can’t.
But to make peace,
With not being at peace
Is so peaceful.
Sun is for heat, moon for warmth.
Wounds heal,
Scars go stale,
Love, stays

Not a word,
Yet their eyes told a story,
I may regret coming across you,
As I hate being what I am
But, rest assured, despite all
I have and will never regret
Loving you,
Now and always.
To be yours,
I couldn’t have been mine,
Now that you’ve abandoned me,
I can’t be mine either
Do I regret meeting you?
Do I regret loving you, unconditionally?
One day, 
I’ll find the right kind of ornaments for you, 
The ones that don’t feel like a burden on your skin.

I don’t like those burdens on you, love. 
You deserve to be free,
Even if it means letting you fly away from me.
Had I not fallen for your eyes that reeked of infinity, 
I wouldn’t be hunting for the pieces in which you chose to break and shatter me.

Thursday, 15 November 2018

How do I tell you!

How do I tell you,
How un-important
And not useless
Sleep is.

How do I tell you,
The fear of dreams
Is more passionate
Than the desire to chase.

How do I tell you
That the night sky
The emperor of sleep
Makes love with stars
As it flirts with the moon
But refuses to look at me.

How do I tell you
That midnight doesn’t
Change the day for me
It just exhausts and elongates
A wretched nightmare.

How do I tell you?
Do I tell you,
I tell you,
This business
Is not worth
Telling, tale-ing.

Tuesday, 6 November 2018

Winter is coming!

Winter is coming,
What had to fall
Has fallen and gone,
The dead have vanished
New seeds are beginning
To germinate.

Winter is coming,
The sun’s heat
Will now be called warmth
The negative will transform
Into positive,
Time will continue
To exist, good or bad
However, whatever
It will.

Winter is coming,
Longing for lengthy cuddles
Craving for hot tea,
Frothy fluffy coffee
Will trickle in
With ease,
Soft blankets
Won’t let you
Make it to the first
Meeting of the day.

Winter is coming,
Bright yellow flowers,
Will make love to the
Bright golden sky,
Birds will flirt with
The cool and sometimes cold
Winds and breezes,
It’ll be cold, you’ll be warm.


Sunday, 4 November 2018

Some days!

Some days are not good,
No, they aren’t bad days,
They are just not good days.

A bit of headache,
A pettish feeling in the stomach
Droopy eyes, dash of backache
But, that is it,
We aren’t new to this,
In fact this is the normal
On most days.

So why are these days
Not oh so good?
I have had a good coffee
And a better scoop of ice cream
That’s all that I need
To revive self from the worst.

Maybe on some days
I recall I crave sleep
The one that kisses gently
Holds warmly and stays.
Or maybe a subtle
Head massage to sleep
Could do miracles.

But, all I have got
To deal with right now
Is a war in a cubicle.


Wednesday, 31 October 2018


I’ve put a mix of
Ice, menthol and aloe vera
To soothe my fuming head,
Gobbled down three scoops of
strawberry ice cream,
To ease my burning heart,
Have been moon gazing
The entire night to
Cool down the fire
That’s destroying my soul,
But you know what?
The moon’s fading away,
Another day is about to
Knock off, all the calm
A new war awaits,
And I as usual,
Stare at the battlefield
Feel the ashes of me
Ignite a new fire to kill
Breathe, have a sip of water
Stand on the verge of
Defeat as I continue to
Lust for the victory
That I know is not mine,
Yet, I choose to war,
You know why?
Because war-gazing
Is the religion of those
Sitting in cubicles
And discussing
Each other’s fate.

Bless the stars,
For I’m an atheist
Burning in the fire
That’s been left unattended
By those theists
For the lord they worship.

I burn in the fire,
Each dream kisses
One fume or another
Yet, the germination
Continues, for each
Seed that becomes a plant
Needs heat,
The fire that burns
Also chooses to protect
Rest, that surrounds
Is just pollution, commotion.