FIND ME!

I drink from the cup

Brimming with the pungent smell of your sweat

Electrifying my tongue

And my hands shaking like an addict’s

Find me on the flat rock, river side

My senses all pulled back with my hair

Lift your hand to mine, recharge me

Draw me out to the rumble of the river

Find me!

Take me sticky in blood

Lick the colour off my thighs

Blow the sunlight in to my mouth

And seal it with a violent kiss

The taste of my blood

I know it

The taste of you

My blood knows

Come to me from the other woman

On the wings of a butterfly

Stolen pollen

Come

Till my belly swells

Legs part

And it is born

NAZM ARAHI HAI

Pet ki zameen pe soti hui nazm

Ek din uth ti hai

Ghanton tak yun lagta hai

Kuch bura hone wala hai

Sehmi si chalti hai saans ke sath

Phepdon se hawa nikalti hai par nazm nahin

Seene ke bakse mein kaid hain

Aaj bhi kuch jumle

Jinhe bahar ka rasta nahin mila kabhi

Phir ek din wahi purana ehsaas laut aata hai

Nazm arahi hai, dil ko pata hota hai

Aur dil jab bhar aata hai

Nazm bhi hothon pe ajati hai

Ek aur ehsaas laut ta hai phir

Khaali hojane ka

Charne lagti hun din dubara

Dusri nazm ke jaagne talak.

THAT FEELING

Alone to the very bone,
Do you know what I am talking about?
you may never,
if you don't.

It's just your filth,
to roll in.
It's just your stench,
to breath in.
It's like that ache in your head,
that gives you only red eyes.

It's probably that very feeling,
that you have lost to a bad sector,
you can't recover what it was,
squeezing out of a vagina that you felt.

It's probably that very feeling,
you will never know, until you do.
and all those who you leave behind,
who are they to say,
when the lights from your eyes faded,
if you felt exactly this way.

These feelings though my own,
are feelings I'll never own.
but right now,
it's just me,
and thats probably how I came,
I stay,
and maybe, thats how i'll go.

In the meanwhile,
speculation never killed none,
but one has to kill time.
because between the knowing and the known
life will pass you by,
and even if fleetingly you meet someone,
who makes you feel less alone,
It doesn't change anything
because you know better.

SPARROW AND I

you want a rhyme
you'll get it this time

not a rhyme
it's a rhythm

yes that too

I was lying in my room
watching the roof peel away
in my head I was somersaulting
but you will be surprised
how death-like
I can stay

pretending paralysis
exhausting analysis

a little sparrow in flight
what a funny sight
especially in the balcony
that turns totally wild

once upon a time
she had a nest in my house
an old paint can
she was not a guest
and paid no rent
I guess you
can call it
a live-in

there goes my rhyme
or rhythm

and what about the punctuation marks
eh
you can't just go on
yaking about the likes
of the larks

guess what
it's my poem
I sure as hell can bark

it was a good twenty years back
when we lived together
sparrow and I
often she would hit the fans
we would bury her
in the city sands
but once I remember
she got tangled
in my sister's hair
she was just learning to fly

WAIT, hold on.
you go on
like its important
how does it even matter
haven't you seen
highway bird splatters

about that
maybe I have nothing to say
but i'll say it anyway

you wanna read
read
you think it's no good
hey
FINE

how come
you still have the energy
to be pissed
by mediocrity
make no mistake
I know
coming from where
where going to

nice try
but not inspiring
NO

write!

Read something
Feel something
and then do it,
write!

sigh!
right...
not today.

Why?
if I may...

just...
a bad hair day.

here...
I'll help you,
look outside
do you see the dim lights in the innocent fog?

I see nothing...

precisely!
He ate them blinkers.

Are you on acid?

sure...
my insides burn.

Ah drama!
probably just gas.

common,
lets try again.

ha!
like there is more you can do.

listen to me,
all you see made
is not just a thought
it is labour

and what exactly should that bring me?

an exhaustion
so deep
that your eyes shut
you fall asleep.

hell!
you boring anyway.
here
watch me sleep.
zzzzzzzzzzzzz

You

You fool
You hope!

So many turns around the sun
You ought to know better
So simple and mediocre
What will it take for you to turn bitter.

Are you anesthetised?
Your insides should explode.
So many plans on paper
You ought to be extremely bored.

If you can love
Trust me, you can hate.
Meaning has no meaning
You should drink yourself to death.

Keep digging within
Bury deep that comet,
And please don't swallow
What you ought to vomit.

Punchline

I didn't want to write a poem
I just wanted to pen a refrain
Each line a mere chore
Staking in to a stanza
For obscure ideas
I racked my brain
And then I didn't say them, like I should have.
I twisted and meandered and complicated plain crap.

In the end I realised, it was
A great find...
This, my friends, this is my punchline.

Dark times.

Rotten intestines pulsate like strings of a harp,
As the sky vomits amidst thunderous applause.

Each star is a day in the past,
The moon a dented future.

As blue in the river turns black,
The sewers are now free,
They have fought for long, a most chess like battle.
Sense that lay trapped in an ancient tree
Has too been chopped open free.

We are free
To hate
To cheat
To betray
We are free
From this cyclic pretense of nature.

Raising her own hands to her neck,
She chokes out all air
And does not let go till she is sure,
Hope was once there.

We are Sisyphus with boils on our feet and ulcers in our stomach.
Little fish nibble away, as pus from them peeps.
We are Sisyphus in his steepest, darkest descent.
We are two faced,
Sissy
And
Pus
And we sure as hell, fester.

We are only clay, water and air.
Only that.
Have we ever been human?

Has there been a single day when justice wasn't denied?

It is time
To finally kick our souls
To the very center of the earth's molten core.

No revolution has ever seen a logical end
A time to sew is past
It is now a time to rend.

But wait!
This is not what I intended to say
My pen too is wanton
And has its way.
Perhaps it is fine to be cynical and whine,
But there is more to this emotion.
Where am I ?
This is not the world to which I had opened my eyes.
Though still, I felt all this while,
Deeply and strongly as I was shred to pieces,
I felt it is just alright,
Hell! It is in fact fine, to feel what I felt,
Even if I only felt nauseatingly disgusted all this while.

Meri Subah

Meri subah ke haath jo zakhm zakhm hain
wo shaam aaney tak sookh jaate hain
raat aati hai akeli
chand ke sikke se saji hui uski hatheli

akhri paher mein shor sa machta hai
diwaaron pe patakhti hai raat
khaali wo hatheli

zakhm jo sookh hi jaaney hain
shaam ke aaney tak
meri subah ke haathon mein hote hain.

Old Poem

I search for myself in old poems
old poems that I once wrote.

How much information can a fossil give?
Bring down books with a thousand pages,
line up the test tubes,
fill them with colored liquid.
The chemical reaction is a recipe
follow it carefully.
and if the dust permits,
you will know the age of the dead specie.

The flickering screens will come to life,
fingers will animate,
and kids will clap,
We know how it moved, ate, mate and slept.
We will feel satisfied.

If the past is gone,
present still taking form,
and the future a dependent cripple.
What exactly is mine then,
what exactly is me?

Lets start spitting to make a pool,
one day it will flow,
it will move like the river does,
and meet the sea eventually.

Lights Camera Action
Sense will find us on its own,
an explanation will grow.

 
 

Chitr

Door pahadon ko dekhti hui ek ladki, hawa mein uska aanchal ud raha hai
kamre ki khidki se wo aata hua nazar araha hai
subha ke kohre mein koi purane ped kaat raha hai
do premi gali ki deewar se lage pehli baar ek dusre ko lipte hain, aati jaati gaadiyon ki roshni mein unke chehre ke badalte rang dikh rahe hain.
baarish ho rahi hai, kachi zameen pe gir rahi hai, keechad karti hui, aur wo abhi naha kar nikli hai, kiwaad pherne, daudkar aangan mein jaati hai, phir apne geele baal jhatakti hai.

Mita do...

Chand jaaley hain deewaron pe

Hata do aakey

Kuch aansun hain safar mein

Poch do aagey badhke

Ek jumla hai puri nazam mein

Mita do hath badha ke.

Laazim hai

Mausam ka badalna laazim hai

Naak ka behna – unfortunate

Dil ka tootna laazim hai

Na jud pana – bad luck

Raat se din hojana laazim hai

Neend ajana – bad routine

Saans aana laazim hai

Ruk jaana – bhi laazim hai

SKETCHING IN THE DARK

Will you meet me today?
I will come riding on a bicycle.
The clouds are gathering for a conference,
they are too full
dark and noisy
there is much to discuss...
Will you clutch the wind for a bit longer?

I will walk out of my house
to the street
then the road
I will collect the small round pebbles for you
only if they are not covered in wet dirt.

Before I leave I have to go running up the stairs,
they have released balloons in the parade,
and fighter jets crossed too.

In the night,
I will switch off the light and light a candle,
read a book for you.
no poems only melancholic stories.
or we can look at old pictures,
of the times we never want to go back to.

Lets sit naked,
I promise I will not touch you.
It wont take much, only time,
I promise you will stop feeling whatever you do.

Do you remember that story about the kids who fell in love.
They had a lifetime to turn bitter.
years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes and seconds
We only have a few.

I will unwrap the toffees for you,
open up the peanuts,
pick out the red dots from pomegranates
and also hunt down the fish bones.

give me your hand
let me bite your fingers
and spit out half eaten nails on your palm.

Drink some water,
before you leave.
and when you leave,
go quietly,
my beloved cat sleeps.

ABHI...

Abhi dikha tha saahil

Abhi thaama tha tumhara haath

Abhi mudke dekha tha tumne mujhe

Abhi baadal garje the

Bas abhi

Kisi khayal mein doob gayi main phir

Tumhari kashti nazar ki hadh pe mit rahi hai

Aur mere haathon mein ek safed seep hai

Abhi thamayi thi tumne mujhe

Bas abhi hi to...

PLOP

The mountain peaks are frosted

The lake placid

The ripples lick the skin right below my breasts

I stand in the water with my hair let loose

The wild wind washes its woes wearily

The water top is glass like

The weeds rising till my thighs

A small fish as big as my thumb swims around me

It enters my belly button

Plop

It’s out again

Plop

Around me in a swish

And plop

In it goes again

And plop

As the fish labours on

Quicker and quicker

It feels like something felt before

Or a line that I once read

“maut kehlo jo mohabbat nahin kahne paa'o”

“name it death if you can’t call it love” (Meena Kumari)