AIN SHEEN QAAF

Ain

Jaane kitne hi pardo ke pare

Baithe hain wo la-haasil 

Bulaate hain bar bar

Kehte hain hai ‘Tu’ haasil 

Main dekhti hun dhoop ko chadhte hue

Zabarwan ko jalte hue

Chand ko pahadon ke peeche

ahista ahista mit te hue

Aankhon ki nami Dal mein utar jaati hai

Unki yaad bhi Jhelum le jaati hai

Haathon mein chorh jaati hai

Chand sookhe chinar ke patte 

Jaane kitne hi pardo ke pare… 

Sheen

Vaadi mein har baras pad jaati hai

Nau-sheen, nayi sheen, taaza baraf 

Har shai dafn ho jaati hai zinda hi

Zamistaan rooh pe bhi aata hai

Dhak jaati hai jism pe ugti ghaas

Nigaah pe dhund aa padti hai

Aur ungliyaan tanhaayi se jam jaati hain

Baraf ki hazaar parton ke neeche 

Phir bhi maujood hai tera dil

Mere lams ki garmi mein pighal jayega

Pahaad sheen ka beh ke jhelum mein hi ayega

Mausam azlat ka ek din dhal jayega

Qaaf

Qaaf bahot gehra hai

Zabaan se nahin gale se aata hai

Humein lagta hai kuch leliya gaya humse 

Asal mein humein kuch diya jaata hai

Apne is dil ki raah mein 

Sab kuch chadhaawa hai

Ye but doodh nahin peeta 

Isko khoon bhaata hai

Ye anginat nadiyaan jo behti hain mujhmein 

Inka sirf aur sirf ek saahil hai

Usi saahil ki ret tere aansu hain

Usi saahil ki lehrein teri saansein

Qaaf se aati hai jo qayamat to aane do

Tera aur mera ek hi kinaara hai

Ek hi buzurg ka haath hai hum par 

Unhi ki dua ka ye ishaara hai

Chale aao ain se aage

Sheen mein dhasenge paon beshak 

Main Qaaf pe maujood hun, waqt hamara hai…

Artwork - Zuriya_

A Cosmic "meet cute"

 Once in a blue moon

There is a full bodied yellow moon

Rising into the sky like a lark

A solitary firefly, a tiny spark

Only when the night ascends

And the dark upon us descends

Do we see the moon is not alone

A million companions

A big fat wedding

A joint family

A rave

An empty but fully packed space

My favourites are green tailed comets

And the moons of other moons

Primordial clouds shaped like dreams

Concealing collapsing galaxies

Or dying stars and their screams

You and I are none of the above

For it is once in a blue moon

That space enthusiasts discover

Two black holes circling each other

Defying all known laws of physics

Dancing the first waltz of mystery

Like death we can only witness

We can only marvel and see

Two sifars when they meet

Collide together like bubbles

And for a brief moment

They become an eight — 8

Just for a second an infinity — ♾️

Everything rare is also abundant

For it holds within it a unique taste

Fourteen years from now

There will be another blue moon

And then another and another

The true miracle is the black hole

and not the blue moon

And we’re two whirling black holes;

two wonders

Forever and ever trying to embrace

Tied to each other with gravitational grace

A dear friend tells me

That the poets spoke of gravity

Before the scientists did

He may be right

For the lovers spoke of union

Before the holy men did.

OFFERING

A branch of red flowers

A glass of water

A lock of my hair

The rustling of leaves

The bird on my sil

The singing river

A torn page

A half eaten sandwich

A cigarette stub

A handful of pearls

A couple of coins

A melody from yesteryears

The wind on the ocean

The still intact dandelion

The feather of a bird

The rumbling dark clouds

The sand on my skin

The muddied puddles

A day in remembrance

A journey together

A night of love

A prayer

A smile

A kiss

A dance together

A Bleeding Sunset

 

Here I am at that place

Where many have stood before

Some distance I walked and some

I was carried off

In this moment it feels enough
I want you to call me
And I can see your call

My arteries are blood tributaries
My veins are blue but with blood
To the sky arrives my blood river
The ocean beneath is a mirror
The water is blue but with blood

Crimson skies are soul cries
Beyond the veil it lies
I stand here reveling
In anticipation and deep trust
Waiting for it all to fall
To a new door
To a new path
To a new rise

I take deep breaths
Expecting pungent skies, but
This isn't the thick blood on my thighs
It is fresh with death
It is new and ripe
Shiny like a moment of hope
Flimsy like a layer of oil

The staves are singing
About wanting to leave
And seeing the colours of another sky
This is another sky
And even though this could be
Molten lava from the earth's womb
It is likely sweet rose syrup and even better
A dry red wine
Sips of which warm my wintered soul
And the after taste rises like a tide

And then I arrive on his thought

A man with whom I shared eros

He shared his name with a saint

Who understood my predicament

He wrote about this sunset in my soul

And turned my life into a sunrise

Laali mere laal ki, jit dekhun tit laal

Laali dekhan main gayi, main bhi hogayi laal

Artwork - Rothko

Doha by Kabeer Das

The Staves - Mexico

Jis din bhi ghazal mein bandh gayi

Ishq mein azaad ho jaungi

Jo tune rahem se dekha

Barbaad hojaungi

Ek zamana zahen mein mere

Aur kahin nahin haqeeqat mein tu

Sach mein mil gaya gar

To khud wasl ki raat hojaungi

Artwork by : Weronika Marianna

Harud

Jo toofan ki tarah aate hain

Aksar jaldi baras jaate hain

Shaam tak tair lete hain

Raat mein doob jaate hain

Ooda ooda khicha hai falaq

Behta hai neela khoon-e-jigar

Tamanna mein teri jale jaate hain

Ishq mein tere jiye jaate hain

Laut ke khud se milenge kisi morh pe

Harud aane tak khudko sajate hain

Dar-e-tilism-e-ishq

Hath ko aaya

Aur mun bhi lagaya

Par dar-e-tilism-e-ishq

Maine akele hi khatkhataya

Tu masroof tha

Main majboor thi

Zindagi Jo moimma hai

Kisey aakhir samajh aayaa

Ek hissa bhikaari hai

Aur dusra Fakeer

Tere samne phaila dun haath

Ya karti rahun ye khamosh ishq

Pehla bosa Jo kare

Dusra na karpaya

Gehri hai meri rooh

Maine halka jism paaya 

Art: Two human beings,  Edvard Munch

On the occasion of a blue blood moon lunar eclipse

From darkness the contours of your face emerge.

Grey desaturated skin and the shadows on the curves.

They remind me of the moon shot with a long lense.

Your face my love,

is a moon with indentations.

Self portrait (1906) by EDWARD HOPPER

Sweet Nothings

He peeled the moist green apples,

And drove the knife in to their center.

He pushed it in slowly and slowly,

And cored them with precision.

Next he cracked some eggs

And with his fingers caught the yolk.

Even though it slipped and slopped,

He managed to pull them out.

With his knuckles he kneeded the dough

And flattened it with the palm of his hands.

A little butter he slathered on it

And neatly folded them in to a cone.

He smoked a cigarette on preheat,

And frantically looked for something,

while the cones baked.

At last he found it in the chill tray,

rose red frozen blood in my blue veins,

a thin layer of ice on my fresh heart.

Like a musician he chopped it up.

Apple pie in pockets,

Baked shiny brown,

Crisp and fragrant,

Full of wet apples.

He then julliened my heart and sprinkled it,

On his rustic homely dessert.

He ate it without a pause.

Waiting For Amaltas

For a few days Delhi is in spring

cardinal, carmine, carnelian

auburn, crimson, scarlet

lava, lust and folly

leaf-less Semal trees

They blanket pavements 

roads and terraces

a thick cover of blood

drying and coagulated

In the darkness of the night

they fall from the trees

on sunny mornings that should be

a grim post-blast flesh sprinkle

dots the city

When you are crossing the road in Nizamuddin

do look at the side railings

behind the crowd at the bus stand

from the metal wires are hanging meat pieces

a fresh wound is this country

Photograph by Mayank Austen Soofi

A Forest On My Skin

Every night my body comes to life

Between my legs

A thousand zebras look in to the light

For a moment their eyes look like fireflies

Or standing stationary traffic lights

Burdened with their memories

To drink some water 

At my navel they arrive

I know the matriarch

She trumpets me goodbyes

The king sleeps in the pit of my elbow 

Where sun beats like on a grassland 

When I open my arm straight 

He dashes down to my palm

Next to my pulse, where deer graze

The wild buffaloes are migrating 

From one breast to another 

And Salmons are swimming 

From knees to my thighs

A pack of wolves prowl

Along my shoulder blades

They are starving 

The winters are their toughest fight

Gibbons are always in flight 

One strand to another 

The water pours constantly 

In my hair

It is always a rainy night

My fingers when moving 

Are home to crocodiles

Their slender long tails

Resting on my nails

A bear on my shoulder 

Often jumps high

He slips and falls on my clavicle 

And the bees heave a sigh

Their queen is in my left ear

My lobes, their honeycombs

My lips, their nectar nigh

The rarest of the rare

Is around my hips somewhere

He camouflages with the bare

Many gather for just a glimpse 

Seeing a Snow leopard move

Is once in a lifetime thing

Photograph by Renhang

KILL.ME.NOW

I write in a feverish fervour

Drowning my day in black coffee 

I walk down a street

Full of men brimming with similitude

I see your crumpled forehead

Your small mouth

Your tiny frame

Your lady like grace 

I am a constant cliché 

I can't stop seeing you

I write with the Kohl in my eyes

Sealing the letter with my spit

I sweat in anticipation and

I cry when I think of this

I know what a love letter will do

Practically nothing for you!

Until it talks about war and politics 

The demonic hegemony of unjust social constructs 

The complacency inducing virtual dissent

I could generate a little interest

 by quoting Elliot and his coffee spoons 

Or existential rants that disillusion and then lead to disbelief

From disbelief to spiritual enquiry and back to some belief

Even the upcoming third world war

Hell! I think you'll read it for much less 

Like how between Hillary and Trump 

America is a mess

And here I am writing about the darkness of the night 

That refuses to lift from my day

I am on the edge, giving too much away

I slowly tear the letter to bits

I now have a clear image

You wave your hand with your slender fingers 

And say this

"All these are love songs with no substance,

Gibberish not worthy of a poem you see,

Any way there is no older farce than poetry!"

Kill.Me.Now

Photograph By Jerry Uelsmann 

Ruin me

You enter me

Like you enter a ruin

You drag your fingers

On my time torn walls

I feel your fingertips

Their cushions pressing on my edges

You step out on to the balcony 

And light a cigarette 

You send out rings

As the sun sets on my memories

Silently you tread my long corridors 

Your steps echoing inside me

Now and then you stop

And open a door

It would seem like you are lost

But maybe you just like to wander

Here let me show you

Some hidden alleyways

So that you stop opening

Unmarked cabinets 

Where lies jealousy 

Bundled in old sacks 

Ration, I forgot I had

You will take that

One last stroll on the porch

The Chameli would lie stuffed in your pockets

The only proof of the love you stole

“I am going for a walk”

Is what you would say

And never come back home

I will stand here abandoned

As paint peels off me

I'll open a window 

To let the breeze in 

In the dust lie your footsteps

The wind will blow them away

Qabool hai

I want to tell you this

You are beautiful 

And your skin has green grass

In your eyes I see doves in flight 

On your palm flows the Nile

And jasmine lives in your sighs

Lover

Feel these concentric circles

My tongue draws

And let your chest swell like a tide

When I'll be done

You will crash like a porcelain cup

And tears will fill your eyes

Our bodies know us better 

They are ancient and wise

My passion is a flitting wasp

Your disdain a stormy night

Any moment you will turn to me

And speak from the darkness of your eyes

'aur bhi dukh hain zamane mein mohabbat ke Siva',

Rahatein aur bhi hain, wasl ki raahat ke Siva' .

Lover,

Don't be so full of light!

Let's pretend we dont know better

Let's be nice

I'll write on your bare back

With the mist in my mouth

A good bye note

A farewell ode

A little request 

Full of knowing words, so you know

I know your soul

'Yeh subh-e-azal mujhse kaha Jibraeel ne

Jo aqal ka ghulam hai wo dil na kar qabool.

Tu rah na'ward-e-shauq hai,

Manzil na kar qabool.