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.

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.

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.

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?

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?

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.

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?

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.

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.