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,
ख़ैर....
————
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
Please.
——————
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
Captivity.
—————————
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...
Craving...drooling...desiring
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,
And
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

Goddess!

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

Always.
————
Not a word,
Yet their eyes told a story,
Untold.
—————
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,
Unconditionally
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?
Yes
Do I regret loving you, unconditionally?
No.
————————
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,
Okay,
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.

Winter
Is
Coming.

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.

Sigh.

Wednesday 31 October 2018

Atheist!

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.

Monday 29 October 2018

One day my poetry!

One day my poetry,
Will reek of the wars
That I chose to pass,
Not because they were
Scary or I feared to lose,
But because sometimes
Letting go and watching
Is a better idea.

One day my poetry,
Will reek of the soul,
That I wanted to preserve
But couldn’t amidst all the battles.

One day my poetry
Will reek of my strengths
And not my weaknesses
Because, one day I will
Set my fears free,
To see how fearlessly musical
It is, to smile, and sleep.

One day my poetry
Will do that for me
And I will be free
Of the shackles
That have built a fort
To preserve my anxieties
And not my soul.

One day, my poetry
Will be mine,
All mine,
That day, I will sleep
Like a baby.

Sunday 28 October 2018

Who fights a war?

Who fights a war?
You? Me? Us? Who?
Aren’t we just fighting
A day more, each day?

Every night, when you’re
Sleepless, restless,
Which war keeps you up?
The internal? Or the mighty external?

Don’t you see,
You’re warring between
Self and me,
The victory and the defeat
Are yours, you.

Why bleed more?
Hurt more?
Kiss the victory,
Embrace the defeat,
There’ll be peace,
Or so I just believe.

Wednesday 24 October 2018

Not all days!

Not all days are beautiful,
some days are terrible,
some manage to be unbearable too.

On such days,
what do you do,
apart from drowning,
in your illegitimate sorrow?

Do you even think,
Is there any hope,
Or some leftover scope
To dream?

You just want the day
To end, for you’ve
Bend enough before time
And ways of the world.

You want it to end,
End for good,
For once and for all.

Monday 22 October 2018

This morning!

This morning, I haven’t
Got up from my bed,
I have been up all night,
My feet were hurting,
Parts of me were aching.

Something has been trembling
Could be my inner self
Or my demons.

They have made me shiver
With a craving to be held
While I know there is no one
To hold or hold on to.

Some mornings are worse
Than dreadful nights,
The light kills
Unlike the dark
Which merely rattles.

This morning is more painful,
Than the awful last night,
But you see, all imposed expectations
Will be met
For that is all
That is left.

Sunday 21 October 2018

Out of love - 94!

What will not kill you,
Will suffocate & burn,
For those who deserve
To be in ashes
Aren’t blessed to be understood.
—————
Warriors war, fighters fight
Dreamers dream, as there
Dreams continue to die
Sigh...
——————
One day when my verses
Are not about you,
Just know that,
The pain has made peace.
—————
Love lost,
Faith broken,
Soul shattered.

Sun set,
Moon came shining,
Tell me my love,
What changed?
—————
A dog wagging his tail,
A squirrel nibbling a pea,
A girl flying a kite,
A boy combing his doll's hair,
A woman swirling her wine,
A man gazing the sky,

If this is not poetry, then what is?
——————
Do not ask me to come out,
Stop urging me to be what I am,
You have no idea about
My insides and demons,
Let them and me be,
please.
—————-
Let the sounds make love
To your restless soul,
Allow the light to
Seep through the
cracks of your heart
Watch the ashes fly
Ignite new fire
Within and around
Maybe that is how
You will find and spread
Warmth and compassion.
—————-
Do not bring my demons down,
I appreciate it, when they flirt with me,
At least they choose to love the parts
You and I, ignored.
————
They say world is blank canvas,
But to me it appears to be,
A tiny cubicle,
Where my thoughts are striking the walls
And hitting me like bullets on my chest,
Yet I breathe, with my eyes wide open.

I make love with the vibrations, despite
Kiss my own sorrow,
Flirt with my own wounds
Dare you talk to me about
Love, dreams and art,
I behold all in that
Cubicle/ gas chamber/ war room
Life.
—————
Verses, even for the worse
Are just plain simple sad,
Never painful, brutal.

Saturday 20 October 2018

Sadness!

There will come a time
When sadness will not
Rattle you, in fact it won’t
Even matter,
It’ll be a part of life
Just like breathing.

There’s no hiding,
Or coming out of it,
There is just sadness
It floats around you,
Has probably made a
Home in you.

Sadness will not
Be an emotion anymore
It will be a way of life
Something that you
Live with, normally,
Just like that.

Sadness.

Sunday 14 October 2018

Home!

They tell me,
That this place,
Where I live is my home.

This place,
Where the walls and windows
Are quite familiar to me
The ceilings don’t seem
To be unknown either,
Is my home, they say.

Till the longest time,
I believed them,
I called this place where I live,
My home.

Home,
Where initially each corner
Reeked of ease,
Now demands answers from me,
To each answer that I come up with,
Is now questioned,
No not because the answer is unreal
But because
The questions need to be answered
And answers need to be questioned.

I’m told when I was a toddler,
I used to colour the walls
With crayons and pencils.
They say the walls,
That I had doodled on
Were not painted for sometime,
So that I could call them mine
For a while,
Those walls were
A part of my home, after all.

When I grew up a bit,
The world map and periodic table
Took over the place
Which was once my canvas.
Those walls then smelled of
Pressure and responsibility
Each time I failed a test,
A new chart was put,
Sometimes of the chapters,
I needed to revise,
And sometimes of the timetable
I should follow,
You see life is not all
Fun and games,
There has to be fear
And maybe a bit of praise.
The home, felt burdening.

Today, the walls of
My residence,
Neither have those
Nasty charts and timetables
Nor are they blessed with my
Random doodles,
They are just a huge sheet
Of ivory colour,
They do not smell of me,
They do not seem to be a part of me,
On some days they seem to be
A dead end on other days
I am too exhausted to give them attention,
How do I call those my own?
Or home?

Saturday 6 October 2018

Amay!

My co-passenger this evening on the flight from Jodhpur to Delhi was a super energetic, 6-year-old boy, Amay. Originally, I had all plans of sleeping throughout the 3 hour long journey because I hadn’t slept for the last 2 days, but of course, his highness Amay, had different plans. He wanted to know everything from Mom & dad. He wanted to know how does an airplane fly to how is it different from the birds, why can’t he touch the sky if he’s in the sky & so many more questions that struck Sir Amay in less than 20 minutes. By now, I had given up on my plans to sleep & chose to introduce myself to Amay.

We shook hands, he asked me how old am I, in which school am I, do I watch cartoons or do I just read newspapers like his parents. After all the questions were asked & obviously answered. Amay thought he should also know my name. He asked me, “Umm....what’s your name?, My name is Amay, I’m six years old & I will be seven years old in January.” Our introduction was done, we were officially friends now. And thus began our gaming spree.

We played Stone-paper-scissors, discussed how adults who read newspapers are so boring, there’s nothing to colour in the newspaper, why does it even exist!! There’s hardly any space to draw either, it’s such a waste. Mutual grievances of being forced to eat green vegetables, drinking a glass of milk each day were also tabled for discussion.

Then came the best part, the window view game. We named clouds, wondered together why they are only white in colour and not in purple (his favourite color) or green (my favourite colour). We also had quite a few questions regarding the shapes and sizes of the clouds, which obviously none of us had answers to, so we just exchanged our questions. Probably, hoping that one day, some day one of us will find answers.

Some clouds looked like a huge roll of cotton, some were in shape of an elephant & to believe Amay one particular cloud resembled Chotta Bheem too! We spent more than an hour with clouds, giving them all our attention and surrendering our imagination to the clouds which we wish were in purple or green colour, nonetheless both of us agreed that the clouds should be left the way they are as they won’t listen to us.

Phew! Game change. Now we have a big chocolate and so we talk about how chocolates are the best thing in the world. How we can have chocolates all the time rather than our boring dal-roti etc. Why doesn’t Ma give me chocolates everyday, Amay asks me. To which I reply, my Ma doesn’t give me chocolates either. He expresses solidarity by saying let’s share this before it melts, we eat the chocolate. With each bite of chocolate we have a verse to share with each other. You see, we are eating a chocolate, something that both of us love.

We talk about how sweetness of the chocolate is amazing, how the wrapper of 5 star would be if we made it, (oh yes! We’ve made designs for a chocolate wrapper) how wonderful life would be if we could sleep-eat-drink chocolates all the time. During this discussion, Amay also finalises that he’s going to distribute Perk on his birthday. Voila! He screams and tells his parents “Papa Ma, I’m going to give Perk in school”, his parents nod & try to tell him to sit down & talk softly. The entire aircraft by now knows that Amay is going to distribute Perk in his school.

By now, we have also discussed how schools are a shit place & we hate it. He tells me about his favourite maam, I tell him about my favourite school memory.

It’s landing time, we fasten our seat belts, sit straight and count till we touch the ground. The plane touched the ground at 198. We counted. Together.

As we get ready to get down, a co passenger, a man who looks 40-50 years old, comes to us, gives us one perk each, we unitedly thank him. And walk towards the aero bridge.

Amay’s Dad & Mom thank me for keeping their tiny bomb busy during the flight, I thank Amay for his company. We shake hands, promise each other to write to the other person if we found answers to our cloud queries.

He waves, I wave, we go our ways.

Monday 24 September 2018

ख़ामोशी की आवाज़!

वो बिस्तर पर लेटी पंखे को देख रही थी और मैं सामने वाली दीवार को. हमने एक दूसरे से ना आँख मिलायी और ना ही बात की. मुझे उस कमरे मे आए 15 मिनट हो गये थे. लेकिन ना मेरे पास उसे कुछ कहने को था ना उसके पास. कुछ देर बाद डॉक्टर आये और उससे हाल पूछा, उसने अपना हाल बताया. डॉक्टर ने सर हिलाया, काग़ज़ पर कुछ लिखा और चला गया.

वो फिर पंखे को देखने लगी, लेकिन इस बार मैंने पूछा उससे, कैसी हो?, उसने मेरी आँखों में देखा कुछ देर और बोली की पानी दे दो. मैंने उसे पानी दे दिया. पानी पीने के बाद बोली, कभी ऐसा लगा है की प्यास लगने पर पानी ग्लास में होने के बावजूद पानी पीने में आलस आए. मैंने पूछा मतलब, उसने कहा यही तो बात है, हाल-ऐ-दिल बयां करो तो हर कोई मतलब-मतलब करता रहता है. नहीं होता हर दर्द का मतलब, नहीं है इस हाल का जवाब. क्या बताऊँ?

मैंने कुछ नहीं कहा....लेकिन शायद मेरी ख़ामोशी की आवाज़ उसने सुन ली.

उसने मेरे हाथ पर लगी चोट को देखते हुए कहा, दर्द होता है इसमें अभी भी, मैंने कहा हाँ, कभी-कभी. वो बोली दर्द, चोट का, या उस दिन का जब हाथ उस पर उठाया था और उसने तुम पर. मैंने बात को टालते हुए कहा, आज शाम को कुछ अच्छा खाते हैं. वो हमेशा की तरह मेरा हाथ पकड़ कर बोली, बात बदल लो, एहसास तो बदल नहीं पाओगी. मैंने कहा, दर्द अब कभी-कभी होता है, पहले से बेहतर है. उसने कहा, हाँ, चोट है, वक़्त के साथ ठीक हो ही जाएगी, ज़ख़्म और दर्द को देखो कितने ज़ालिम दिन और तन्हा रातें लगती हैं.

अक्सर ज़ख़्म पर धूल जमने में कुछ ज़्यादा ही देर लग जाती है, धैर्य रखना, जम जाएगी धूल, भूल जाओगी ये ज़ख़्म. मैंने कहा, कोई ज़ख़्म नहीं है बस थोड़ी सी चोट है ठीक अब तो क़रीब-क़रीब ठीक भी हो गयी है. आप आराम करिये मैं चलती हूँ.

मुझे पीछे से रोकते हुए वो बोली, जब डर हो तो छुपाना नहीं चाहिये, आँखें बड़ी दग़ाबाज़ होती हैं ना जाने कैसे कमबख़्त सच उगल देती हैं. टूटे हुए ख़्वाब, चैन से सोने की आस, कुछ नहीं छुपने देती; ख़ैर, कोई बात नहीं....तुम भागो. हमेशा की तरह, यही तो करती हो. जाओ. जिस दिन औक़ात हो जाएँ कि किसी की आँखों में आँख डाल कर अपने डर, अपनी तड़प को बयां कर पाओ उस दिन आना, बतायेंगे की कैसे उम्र बीत जाने पर भी ज़िंदगी का साथ निभाया जाता है.

जैसा की उसने कहा, मैं फिर भाग गयी....हमेशा कि तरह, आदत नहीं है ना यूँ आइना देखने की.....ख़ैर, क्या फ़र्क़ पड़ता है. वक़्त ही तो है, काट जायेगा; ज़िंदगी ही तो है बीत जायेगी.

Monday 17 September 2018

कुछ अल्फ़ाज़ बस यूँ ही-25!

जो आज़ाद है, उसे तुम क्या रिहा करोगे,
जो क़ैद है उसे, पिंजरे में बंद करके भी क्या करोगे?
————
ये अच्छा किया की,
दिल के चीथड़े कर दिए,
कहीं चंद टुकड़ों में
तोड़ा होता तो,
फिर से टूटने का डर रहता,
अब ठीक है,
चीथडों में पड़ा है,
ना फिर से टूटने का डर,
ना बिखर जाने का ख़ौफ़.
—————
तुम्हारे इश्क़ में गिरफ़्तार क्या हुए,
कमबख़्त आज़ादी से ही नफ़रत हो गयी,
तुम्हारी मुहब्बत से रिहा क्या हुए,
ज़िंदगी ज़हर हो गयी।
—————-
ये अच्छा हुआ की इश्क़ सिर्फ़ तुमसे हुआ,
तुमसे जो ना कभी हो सकते थे ना हो,
इत्मिनान रहा की किसी से दिल्लगी तक ना हुई,
वरना ना जाने कितनी भारी हो जाती साँसे,
और ज़ख़्मी हो जाता क्लब।
——————-
दाद, तो मैं उस तन्हाई की वफ़ादारी की देती हूँ ,
जो तुम्हारी याद आते ही चली आती है.
—————
ग़म तो उन्हें हो,
जिनके साथ पहली बार हुआ हो,
हमको तो उनकी, उन जैसों की
बेरुख़ी की आदत है.
——————
समझ नहीं आता कि तुम्हारे
जाने का ग़म कैसे बयां करूँ,
तुम तो मेरे कभी थे ही नहीं,
होते अगर, तो तुम्हारे
आज ना होने पर
चंद अश्क़ ही ज़ाया कर लेती
तो कम से कम जायज़ लगती.
————
एक दौर तो वो भी था,
जब तुम हमारे
और हम तुम्हारे
साथ मज़ाक़ किया करते थे.

आज भी वक़्त की घड़ी यूँही
चल रही है
बस फ़र्क़ तना कि
अब हम तुम्हारे लिए मज़ाक़ हैं.
—————
इससे बेहतर तो हम अनजान ही थे,
कम से कम तब तुम्हारे दिए ज़ख़्मों
का दर्द तो कम होता.

अब तो ना तुम अनजान हो
ना हमारे जहान में हो.
—————-
ज़रा सी खरोंच क्या लगी,
वो तो उसे ज़ख़्म ही समझ बैठे,
ज़रा इल्म होता अपने दिये हुए
घाव का तो शायद ये ना कहते.

Sunday 16 September 2018

आज जब उस वक़्त की...!

आज जब उस वक़्त की
याद आ ही गयी है,
तो ज़रा ज़िक्र भी कर लेते हैं,
उन लम्हों का जिन्हें
तुमने बोया और मैंने सींचा था.

वो सुबह जब तुम आसमान
को देख कर उसकी गहरायी
में बस यूँही खो ज़ाया करते थे
और मैं उन पत्तों को निहारते हुए
तुमसे पूछ रही थी की
ऐसा भी क्या है इस सुबह में
जो आज ना मैं काम कर पा रही हूँ
और ना तुम, बल्कि तुमने तो
ये तक कह दिया की
अभी मुझे निहार लेने दो
उस आसमान को
कल जब में छूँ उसे तो
हम दोनों को अपनापन लगे.

मुझे भी तो सामने वाले पेड़
के पत्तों की गुफ़्तगू ने भी
मंत्रमुग्ध किया हुआ था तो
अब मैं तुम्हारे और उस आसमान
के बीच आती भी तो कैसे?

आज जब वही आसमान
ज़रा सा लाल और वो पत्ते शांत हैं
तो तुम और मैं भी आज अलग
किसी कोने में अपने अंदर
के सैलाब को शांत करने की
आड़ में लगे हुए हैं.

वो रात जब तुम ये सोच
कर परेशान हो गए थे
कि वो स्थिर चंद्र ऐसा
भी क्या ख़ूबसूरत है,
जो हर रात कोई ना कोई
उस को ऐसे देखता है
की उस चाँद से ज़्यादा
सुंदर कुछ और कभी देखा ही नहीं.

ख़ैर, वो वक़्त बीत गया
तुम भी अतीत बन गए
चाँद वही ठेर गया
और रह गयी हमारी यादें.

ख़ूबसूरत. आज़ाद. क़ैद.

Thursday 13 September 2018

Out of love - 94!

Strands & pieces,
Never crave to be whole
Who gave the right
To those shattered dreams
To pounce & agitate?

What’s shattered will never be whole
Never.
————-
Flow so erratic yet so fragile
Display of furry with a simple smile,
On some days you scare me,
On the rest your softness intrigues me.

What are you, Ganga?
Mother? Destructor?
Or are you just some,
Raw poetry, which seems to
Be incomprehensible for mortals?
——————-
All we had to lose,
Was each other,
Now that it is done,
Are we back to being
Fearless?
——————
Your ability to un-love,
Mesmerises me,
Your love left me awestruck,
What’s with your games of love,
My love?
—————
How I wish you’d be a drug,
I could at least be okay
With being addicted to you.
————-
Let no heart be broken,
No soul be shattered,
No mind be rattled,
Unfollow, un-chase, un-accept
Whatever comes in way of this.
——————-
I’ve seen you laugh & smile, how do I not believe in magic?
—————
There are stages
And not phases
Of war,
The beginning is scary,
Injurious, painful, obnoxious,
With time when it becomes
A routine,
The wounds stop hurting,
Fears stop mattering,
You become irrelevant
And thus the war
Becomes a

Comfort zone :))
——————
Your words were like
Aloe Vera gel
On my burnt self.
—————
Burnt joys, enhanced sorrow
Ash of dreams, dash of wounds
Painful you ask, hurtful I reply.

Wednesday 12 September 2018

One day when you...!

One day when you want
To listen to me I will tell you
How it feels to sit in a gas chamber
When your body boils at 101 degree celsius
And your head splits.

One day when you’re ready for it
I’ll tell you how it is
To not sleep for nights
For your own mind is too
Vicious for you that it recounts
Those words by them
Who know, they’ve power to ruin
Till the very end.

One day when you’re waiting
For your breakfast at the dining table
How it feels to sit on the dining table
Expecting a fluffy omelette
But being served a brutal lecture
On how irrelevant your dreams are.

One day when you choose
Your ice cream flavours
I’ll tell you why I always
Chose a double scoop
Of a certain flavour
Not because I liked,
But because it controlled my anxiety.

One day when you’re
Craving for a hand on your
Head to put you to sleep,
I’ll tell you how it feels
When you’re rejected
Because you refused to surrender
Surrender before the dreams
That weren’t woven by your
Threads of passion.

One day....I actually hope
That this one day
Doesn’t become a reality,
You don’t deserve it,
Nobody does.......


Tuesday 11 September 2018

Out of love - 93!

Everything you & I have been
Taught about beauty,
Lies in the death of a broken dream.
—————
Touch my wounds,
Make love to my scars
Hug my pieces,
Make me feel
What a combination of
Warmth & love
Can do.
——————-
You couldn’t have been wrong for me in any way,
Look what the pain of your memories did to me,
It forced me to build a memoir more gorgeous than your memories
And our dreams.
———————
Let me hurt till I get rid of the fear of pain,
Allow me to sink in the tides,
Test the ashes of the shattered dreams,
What else am I, if not a combination
Of some legitimate pieces
And illegitimate expression.
————————-
Burn each strand of hope,
Destroy every ray of light,
Convert those dreams into ashes,
Breathe, then
Embrace the guilt of inhaling,
Exhale all what’s yours,
Choose to survive,
Even if that’s not,
What it is to be alive.

Those who love,
Will hate,
Sleep will certainly escape,
Death wont kiss,
Let’s see how far
Do you get
While you miss
Each part you
Burnt, again and again.
——————
One day when you are free, at ease,
Just put me to sleep, without the noises & notions,
Please.
—————
How do your eyes continue to reek of magic, even after they’ve killed my faith in it?
——————
Same faces,
Similar verses,
A dash of fresh hurt,
A dollop of joy.

Routine, everyday.
—————-
Maybe in the end,
What doesn’t stay,
Isn’t yours.
——————-
If I don’t love you
Across borders,
Despite differences,
Beyond expectations.
Will I even have the
Right to call it love?

Monday 10 September 2018

Dear Grandpa!

Dear Grandpa,

I am sorry for not writing to you in a while. I think it’s the sky this morning which wants me to pen this down for you. So, I will. It’s golden-ish-blue-ish-grey-ish in colour, reeks of acceptance.

I’ve been managing life okayish-ly, or so I believe & want you to believe too. Tabla practice isn’t very regular but, I sort of manage to play the beauty once in a while. Been a while since I had apples, nobody cuts it the way you used to do it, you know. The world is doing fine with me in it. It’s huge, I feel tiny at times, but the moon up there makes it beautiful at all times.

I’m not sure how much grace is left in my expression or is there any grace in it or not, in fact I’m not sure if it exists in me anymore or not. On some days, there is a hurricane in me & on other days it feels like a manageable cyclone, on my good days I impress myself & during better days I out to do myself, on some nights I ensure my mind is at place, functional-logical-dutiful but on some unending nights I let bits of my heart & soul takeover sometimes it’s stunning to feel what the heart can do, but usually the heart at the driving seat messes it up, reminds me of voids & pieces of my own.

Video game collection is being maintained. Stationary is well kept. Your lemon yellow kurta still sits in the corner of my wardrobe & sometimes I embrace it too, I’m told it looks nice on me. The golden watch that you wore is the most stunning watch, till date, I haven’t seen a watch as gorgeous as that till date.

Umm....I think that’s all for now. Oh yes! The promise remains as is, I will protect myself from what is not mine & not let go what is mine. Till we meet again!

Love,
Your favourite :)

Thursday 6 September 2018

I love this hour!

I love this hour,
When the moon
Makes love to the night sky,
Stars chat with each other
And I get comfortable with
The loneliness & hurricanes
That continue to rattle me.

I love this hour,
When there is
Just blank longing
For a reply from you.

I love this hour,
When the sun goes down
And the sky,
Romances with the colours.

I love this hour,
When children are taught,
Incomprehensible equations,
In the name of success
And not passion.

I love this hour,
When dreams are,
Put at stake
Under the fear
Of making ends meet.

I love this hour,
When the clock strikes 12
And the date changes
Without an ounce of change.

I love this hour,
When screams are validated
For injuries & not wounds
Where tears are legitimate
For sorrow & not for heart aches.

I love this hour.


Thursday 30 August 2018

It’s difficult, very difficult!

It’s difficult, very difficult.
Extremely illogical
Infinitely hurtful,
Yet, I choose,
What I have chosen.
No, it’s not,
What I wanted to choose,
But I’ve chosen, despite.

My heart would hurt,
Soul would burn
Mind would explode,
Yet, I choose.

There are no questions
And hence no answers,
There are no corners of solace
And hence no goodnight

This is it,
A choice, unwilling
Spine chilling

Yet, dealing, believing, being.

Sunday 19 August 2018

How do I tell you!

How do I tell you
How scared I am
Of those afternoons
In the classrooms
Which feel like a gas chamber
That suffocate & not kill.

How do I tell you,
About the times I shiver
Just with thought
That I will end up doing
What I have been dreading to
For all my life.

How do I tell you,
That each morning
When I apply the concealer
On my dark circles
It feels like a murderer
Of those dreams which
I have nurtured all this while.

How do I tell you,
How cowardly I feel
On not being able to
Shatter the glass ceiling
Which you have built for me.

How do I tell you,
About the cyclones & hurricanes
That I contain, which have broken
But not shattered me as yet

How do I tell you,
Do I even tell you,
Do I need to tell you?
Can’t you just see?


Monday 23 July 2018

Out of love - 92!

For the world to work in harmony,
Someone will have to
Consume the poison
Contain the hate that surrounds
Shatter their dreams
And choose to breathe
As they practice
The art which reeks
Of love, peace & harmony.
————-
Magic is what you choose to see without watching.
———————-
What can a warrior do,
But brave a war,
Or just crave to be back home
Even if it’s wrapped in a flag.
——————
I wish someone, someday, sometime
Brushes a flower, wet in the morning dew
On your wounds which have forgotten
What care, warmth & ease feels like.
Someone, someday, sometime, I wish.
———————————
If one heart needs to be broken,
One dream needs to be shattered
Let it be mine,
For if it’s yours
Two dreams & two hearts
Will be destroyed,
Irreparably, inconsolably, immediately.
———————
Just like the
Clouds kiss the mountains
The morning dew kisses the flowers
One day,
Your dreams will kiss you,
Softly, smoothly, beautifully.
——————
Minutes before slaughter,
Trees were watered
For no one deserves to
Die craving for what is meant for all.
———————
When wars become routine,
Bravery becomes a habit.
—————
But do you have the courage to work over the pieces of me
——————
Beyond the battleground,
There exists a world.
Where sky romances the trees 
And
The water makes love to the land.


Wednesday 18 July 2018

कुछ अल्फ़ाज़ बस यूँ ही-24!

ना इस लम्हे में तुम्हें चैन मिलेगा
ना उस पल में आराम आएगा
इस अंधी दौड़ में ना जाने
किसको इत्मिनान नसीब होगा.
—————-
हम तो उनकी फ़रमाइश को फ़रमान समझा करते थे,
और वो थे की हमें अपने इश्क़ को
अपना तक कहने नहीं देते थे.
——————
नींद, चैन और इत्मिनान की आहूती तो उसी दिन चढ़ा दी थी,
जिस दिन हमने उनकी आँखों में सब देखा
और उन्होंने हमारे होने तक का इल्म ना हुआ.
—————-
इश्क़ था इसलिए शायद
इतनी आसानी से तुम
चले गए और हम बिखर गये
नफ़रत होती तो ना आज
तुम रिहा होते और ना मैं तन्हा
————————-
तेरी ख़ुशी में मेरा हिस्सा,
हो या ना हो,
मुझे फ़र्क़ नहीं पड़ता
लेकिन तेरे हर ज़ख़्म, हर दर्द, हर दुःख
पर मेरा हक़ है.
————-
चलो आज इतना तो
इत्मिनान हो गया
की अब तुम कमसे कम
तन्हा तो नहीं हो,
ख़ुश हो शायद
मैं भी आज ख़ुश
हूँ या ना हूँ
परेशान तो नहीं हूँ
आख़िर अब तुम्हें चैन
मिल गया
अब मेरी फ़िक्र का
क्या फ़ायदा?
————
ख़्वाबों को दफ़्न कर
साँसों की क़ीमत अता
कर रही हूँ
बस इतना एहसान करना
इस लेन देन को
ज़िंदगी का नाम
ना देना.
————-
सपनों को या तो पूरा कर लीजिए,
या मार दीजिए,
ये अधूरे रह जाएँ,
तो इतना मारते हैं की
ना मरा जाए और जिया तो ख़ैर क्या जायेगा.
—————-
अभी उम्र ही क्या हुई है,
जो अभी से लगने लगा
कि उम्र बीत गयी उनके प्यार में.
———————
पहले हुआ करता था तुम्हारा पता,
मेरे सुकून का,
अब तो जब भी बेचैन होती हूँ,
तुम्हारा ही नाम ले लेती हूँ,
बेचैनी और दर्द का अच्छा बहाना हो तुम, अब.

Sunday 24 June 2018

Out of love - 91!

What are answers if not un-phrased questions?
————-
On the days I’m in pain,
I re-read our conversations
And miraculously enough
The pain translates into hurt.
And thus you continue to be
My waiver of pain, anyway.
Such a constant, you!
—————-
Throw away those pieces of you that shatter self.
———————-
Too strong for the dark, too weak for the light, amidst the grey; I manage to survive.
—————
But when the bravest soldiers lose the battles to win wars, they become losers wearing a mask of victory.
———————
Dreams have become
Just like the morning dew
Which seems to be fresh for
The world & mundane for
Each leaf it falls on.

Maybe it was just
A phase when I thought
I could chase,
Dreams.
——————
But those who brave hurricanes aren’t rattled by storms.
—————-
Battlegrounds aren’t meant
To offer anything beyond,
Killed souls, wounded warriors
And the good old fake pride.
———————
More than a hundred volcanoes have exploded within & have hardened each soft corner of the heart. Do you think these petty storms will still be able to rattle me?
————————-
Weak in the knees
Trembling interiors of the heart
I walk towards the battleground
This time to lose the war,
And conquer the damn fears.

Resembling a loser,
Feeling a loser,
Chasing the lust
Of victory,
As always.

Friday 22 June 2018

One Day, Some Day!

One day,
Some day,
I will find the words
For us,
The kind of words
That don’t bind us
But connect us
Across borders,
Through rivers,
Beyond galaxies.

Those words will be simple
Very very simple,
Yet real, the kind of words
That will not need a dictionary
They’d be good with a gentle glance
They’ll touch your soul,
Massage my heart
And in this we will find our joy,
Our share of happiness & solace.

Those words won’t be written
That story won’t be told
It’ll be a moment,
A miracle, filled with magic
Reeking of sparkle & home
Those set of words will
Come to us,
One day,
Some day.

Thursday 14 June 2018

Solider!

Who are you to call yourself
A solider, you wretched coward.
Your wars are lost,
Your battles remain un-fought
Yet you address
Your combination of blood & bones
As a solider?

You moron, you loser, you cheat
How did you ever think
That there existed a solider
In your soul
As you once claimed it to be.

But, now that you’ve been
Told to believe that you
Are neither a warrior
Nor a solider
What have you chosen to be?

A soft murmur, a gentle hug
Reassures, that soldiers
Are never born, they’re built
By their own power & strength
And to me, I am a solider
Who has chosen to step in
The battle field
And that is enough of a reason
To believe that I will
Continue to be a solider
Till the time
I prove my blood & sweat,
Equally.

Thursday 7 June 2018

Out of love - 90!

Now, I use my unacknowledged love for you to my benefit,
The blood oozing out of the cracks in my heart,
Is now the ink I use to create a bit of art & magic.
—————
On some days,
Words & hope fail
To heal the bruises
Of the soul,
On those days
Give silence & darkness
A fair chance,
They deserve it after all.
———————
Look at that moon,
which stays still,
at ease,
hopefully at peace,
while you & I run
each day on the roads we hate,
towards the destinations we dread
Breathless, scared, functional.
——————-
Thrash me hard
Scold me loud & clear
Smash my passions
Set my dreams ablaze
And, then, sit back
And watch how my
Aspirations rise from ashes
Like a pheonix
In the open sky.
———————-
Break my Hands & my legs
Don’t spare my heart for it has sinned
To dream, to aspire & to believe
Derive pleasure as you see me break
And then watch me resist shattering
For I will conquer, what I choose to
As & when I need to.
—————————
Beyond boundaries, across borders,
Just where the passion kisses profession.
I will find myself, performing for Satan.
——————
To the nights we spent moon gazing, as I kept my heavy head on your right shoulder while you played with my hair with your left hand while repeating your oh so favourite dialogue, “Right side is for the weight, the left is for the therapy” & I as usual would not buy that because what’s with the left and the right when there is just darkness and no light to which you’d say “I love this genre of loyalty by the night sky it’s always dark, unlike the days which are bright on some, gloomy on others. Shouldn’t the darkness be goals for being so loyal, so pure, so therapeutic?” to which I’d just nod & be. To the nights that translated to gloomy days & to the moments that are now just memories of......our erstwhile wounds & current scars.
————————-
That’s the thing with dreams,
They don’t die,
You will have to kill them,
Bit by bit, piece by piece, part by part
Till the time you haven’t slaughtered it will
Your sleep won’t kiss you,
And once you have murdered it
A good night’s sleep will kiss
And your heart will continue
To exist just like a stranded lover
Broken, hurting, functional.
————————
You and I,
Are like the sun & the moon
Living apart
Staying together, always.
————————
Between heaven & hell,
Lie your dreams in a tiny nutshell.


Monday 4 June 2018

कुछ अल्फ़ाज़ बस यूँ ही-23!

वो जो ज़िंदगी से धड़कन चुरा ले गये,
आज पूछ रहे हैं के सब ख़ैरियत है या नहीं
कोई ज़रा उन्हें बता दे की साँस क़ायम है
तो बस ज़िंदा भर हैं.
——————
हर टूटा ख़्वाब,
उस उधुरी ख़्वाहिश की
गवाही देगा जिसे मैंने
चाहा था पर पाने की
हिमाक़त ना की.
—————
वो कह रहे हैं, होश में आओ
अरे! कोई ख़बर उन्हें
की अगर हम होश में अभी गए
तो क्या वो सच्चाई से
लड़ने साथ आएँगे
या यूँ ही हमारे
सुकून का दम घोटने का मन है उनका
————-
ज़िंदगी में एक रोज़ उम्मीद
ख़फ़ा भी हो जाए तो ग़म नहीं,
लेकिन उस रोज़ जिस दिन
ज़िंदगी की उम्मीद ख़त्म हो जाएगी
तो साँसों के बोझ को कैसे संभालियेगा.
——————
अगर तेरी हिफ़ाज़त की होती मैंने,
तो एक रोज़ तुझे दग़ा देने का
ख़याल शायद ज़हन में आ जाता
पर तेरी तो इबादत की है मैंने
अब बता क्या करूँ?
टूट के बिखर जाऊँ,
या तेरे इंतज़ार
में ज़िंदगी बसर करदूँ.
——————
अब वो हमें शुक्रिया बोलने लगे हैं, ज़रा चाँद से पूछो की उस अंधेरी रात ने उससे कुछ कहा भी है या अब तक बस गिड-गिड़ा ही रहा है उसके क़दमों तले.
————-
उसे क़ैद तो कभी किया ना था,
पर आज उसको रिहा कर,
ख़ुद आज़ाद हो रही हूँ.
——————-
कम से कम दग़ा तो वफ़ादारी से देते.
——————
उनके ज़ख़्म गहरे थे,
इसलिए शायद
अशकों में तब्दील हो गए
हमारे पायाब घाव
तो बस कहीं
तन्हाई में ही दफ़न
होते रहे.
—————
हमें तो उनकी नफ़रत भी नसीब नहीं,
कभी इश्क़ होता तब तो नफ़रत पनपती
उन्होंने तो हमें कभी तवज्जो ही ना दी
ना इश्क़ मिला ना नफ़रत.

Wednesday 23 May 2018

Of Passions & Power!

You talk of passions & powers,
Have you ever felt what
The craving of an unaccomplished dream
Can make you do
Can it drive you crazy?
Can it push you to the limits
That you dreaded?

If you haven’t you’re blessed,
If you have you’re blessed especially,
You know how to fight numbness,
You’ve fought the days when
Hope has left you
You know how to brave
The days when the oxygen
Leaves your lungs
Without having an impact
On your breathing.

They’d know you as
Perfectly functional
Your concealers would
Hide all that needs to
Be not shown,
But, those insides
That scream & screech
As you stomp over your
Heart & dreams
Fooling yourself as if
All is well
Will they ever forgive you
For murdering them each day?

Saturday 19 May 2018

Out of love - 89!

‪Don’t invest your time in disposing off the ashes of those memoirs which have lost their meaning a while ago. Revisiting, disposing is time consuming it doesn’t deserve that.‬
—————
But what are patterns if not a combination of unfinished-unarticulated dreams.
—————
But what is love,
If not a combination
Of miseries,
Uncontrollable amounts of desires
And most of all the urge to give.
 —————-
Do not fight battles in which you feel like a warrior’s horse and not the warrior.
——————-
When you unwind a crumbled sheet of paper,
be careful,
you’re opening up what has been crushed.
It’s going to be full of wounds and scars,
stretch with compassion,
rub your hand with ease,
it’ll open up,
just as you want it to be.
————————-
Wars won’t be wars without wounded warriors!
——————-
She once meant
Miracle & magic
She could eliminate
Everything tragic.
But, today she
Cut open my heart
Pierced the softest
Corners in which
She had poured
All her love
All this while.
———————-
You can only kill your demons
And win those wars
If they are around or a part of you
Not when you’re the demon & the war
You lose, you toxic fool.
—————
Who are we to drool over the storm that ditched, when we ourselves are beholders of hurricanes. ———————-
Eyes were trying to lie with the lips, I had no option but to fall for it.

Monday 23 April 2018

That day, she gave up!


That day, she gave up
She gave up on me
The idiot she once
Called her best friend.

She gave up because
Her best friend had
Become toxic and
Had buried all sense of logic.

She gave up because
Things had changed
And we couldn’t
Be all that sane.

She left, she went away
With all that we built
And nurtured
With and against time.

All the time and wine
We spent, which was
Once surreal
Now felt like boulders

That night, I slept for 18 hours
Maybe because
I lacked the courage
To accept, so I slept.

I slept, I am told
She wept, I bled
We were hurting
We still are.

But, then we used to
Hurt and play together
Today, we are the
Hurt for each other.

I am the reason
For her pain
I am what I
Never wanted to be

It is a month today
I haven’t slept and
I still haven’t slept
In peace for a single day

A month, I survived
I hope she did too
It’s time she moves on
For she doesn’t deserve toxicity.

She isn’t meant for poison
And if her ex-best friend
Is poison, now
She better be gone.

She is for flowers
And the skies
For all the peace
And beautiful butterflies.


                                        

Sunday 22 April 2018

Your words don’t matter!

Your words don’t matter
The patterns you create
Reek of the nasty scars
Of those un-fought obnoxious
battles.

Warrior you claim to be
You loser, of all wars
What else did you think
You would ever be?

You burnt what healed
You destroyer of peace
And ease
Go survive, with ashes
And skulls
That is all your need be.

You’re hurting you say,
Aren’t you the pain
To the world that is
Bleeding it’s heart away.

You selfish monster
Rot, with your ashes
Fill your wounds with
The remains of wars
For you’ve burnt
Whatever that was yours

Friday 13 April 2018

Follow Your Heart Till It Boomerangs!

I've often heard people bask in the glory of this concept of following the heart. Be fearless, be bold do what you want to. This concept has been so beautifully packaged that it actually gets each bit of the individual. While this best deal of follow your heart was doing rounds around me I decided to fall for the trap.

But, what happens next?

It boomerangs, right in the face. You know why? Because, it wasn't/ isn't packaged as a plan. It is raw, as in the heart. Things that are raw are never ready for the market, you may choose to read market as society because that is what it actually refers to.

Live, fall, rise, do, be but do none in the name of heart.

While this may sound very weird but the heart in the human body is also caged by the rib cage. There can be 2 ways to decode this. First, the heart is so fragile that it needs to be protected by a cage so that it doesn't get damaged; Second, it's a trap!

Whichever the case maybe, the fact of the matter is, are we ready as a society except the vulnerability or the fragility of the heart? The bigger question here is that should these complications stop you from listening to what your heart beats for? Ummm...probably no! But, some coordination between mind and heart is always a good idea. Listen to your heart, let your head make a package out it and boom, you're all ready to deal with the market.

Here’s to more dreams, stronger passions and beautiful scars! Cheers.

Thursday 12 April 2018

Out of love - 88!

The pieces of my heart still ache, because I never fell in love with you, I knew I drowned in it and that continues to be the most beautiful feeling, ever. The pain, the craving all worth it, still!
———————-
You will heal,
So will your mind, body & soul
But, will that silence your mind’s scream?
——————
You can’t hold everything,
But what you can,
Is yours.
—————
With whom would I share my silences and emptiness had it not been you, Moon?
———————
The question remains as is,
You want to find yourself
Or want to lose yourself?
——————-
Some explosions are meant for the inside, they’d blast, destroy, finish, hurt & convert everything into ash but there will be no smoke. There’ll be nothing left within & it’ll be all so good on the outside. That. That exactly is the most powerful thing ever.
———————
No, it’s not you. It’s the pieces of you that are hurting tonight. Don’t you recall you are broken? It’s not you in a single piece, it’s the shredded you in a million pieces and so a million times painful pain.
—————-
Tonight I’m jealous of this breeze
Which is going to kiss you in your sleep
And leave you with a craving for more of
ease and peace.
———————
The fire within doesn’t even reduce you to ashes, it just burns and burns some more and just keeps on burning, destroying, being.
——————-
Her voice heals the cracks in me,
Where else will I find my therapy?

Wednesday 11 April 2018

Victory: A Loss!

The battles we are
Fighting are not for
Victory
For you and I will hurt
The parts of us
That we have nurtured
Together will break
And there will be no one
To tape the wounds
That we make
On each other.

The boulders in the chest
The pressure building up
In the head
The pieces of the heart
The restlessness of the soul
All the ordinary moments spent
And the beautiful memories
Cherished.

Is it worth the war
Is it worth the pain
And the scars
Is it worth the unwept tears
And the infinite craving of love
For hours?

Are we nothing but a battle?
Are we just a fragile combination
Not ready, to compromise on
Our dreams and desires?