Tuesday, 15 July 2014
Kya ab bhi rooh pe dhabbe hain?
Tuesday, 8 July 2014
Kisi Shaam...
Kuch khaas nahin
Kaisa tha aapka din?
Koi shaam hai jo yaad aati hai?
Kabhi tanha laga itna, ke ro diye?
Maa ki god mein letkar kaisa lagta hai?
Kya baap se koi narazgi hai?
Mint hai tumhare toothpaste mein?
Bachpan mein kaunse cartoon dekhte the?
Ab bhi dekhte ho?
garmiyon ki chuttiyan kaise bitate the?
Koi school ki picnic jispe bada maza aaya ho?
Kuch aisa kiya tumne, jiske liye pakde jaane ke dar se, dil doobne lage?
Acha chalo yahi batado,
Doga ya nagraaj?
Champak ya tinkle?
Pinki ya chacha chowdhry?
Ddlj pasand hai tumhe?
Black and white tv pe chitrahaar dekhna yaad hai?
Antenna hila hilake cricket match dekha tumne kabhi?
Pehli baar hui pehli mohabbat mein chupke milkar pehli kiss kaisi thi tumhari?
Ishq hogaya tumhe, kabhi aisa laga?
Kisike liye kuch deewangi kabhi ki tumne?
Khaali paper pe kisika naam likh,
Ghanto uspe qalam phiraya?
Saal mein kitni baar bukhaar hota hai tumhe?
Ya khaasi kabhi?
Raat mein uthke paani peetey ho?
Zindagi se jo chahiye tha, mil raha hai?
Ye to life mein karna hi hai,
Aisi koi list hai tumhari?
Wo kaunsi jagah hai jisey dekhne ki tamanna seene mein liye ghumte ho?
Chuna chahte ho mujhe?
Mujhse lipat ke sona chahoge?
Mere haathon ki bani chai ,acha baba, chai nahin coffee,
...piyoge?
Saturday, 28 June 2014
Pickled Heart
A clean cut
Between my breasts
And the skin parts
Like labia
The cage beneath
Has been beaten against
Blow brittle bones
In black sticky menstrual clots
In slight tremors
Of a skipped beat
Sprouting from the flesh
An old withered tree
Lies
My rotting heart
Lies
My pickled heart.
Friday, 20 June 2014
Makhmali gehra...
My song
from arm to arm,
there is always something new,
that is born in you.
The manner in which he makes you feel,
that one moment when you watch yourself,
consumed by some emotion,
like how your skin feels,
or sometimes how the world's sorrow,
decides,
to fly and sit by you,
as waves after waves crash,
in the agony of the drag that life can be.
In this sunset of realisation,
you know,
a song is buried deep inside you,
and you wonder,
if you will ever find that person,
who can hear it,
hum it with you.
Thursday, 12 June 2014
An offer
but enough to fill your hands
you can wrap your finger around my tresses
that curl up like my cat,
sometimes...
I have thunder thighs
your way, if you will, you can find
but the small of my back
dips like a cliff
and on a good day
you can slide down it
my hips, they rise from somewhere deep in the valley
as if all that my body was ever going to do, was childbirth.
Many a lovers have told me,
my lips raked up their demons
and my eyes...
well my eyes, they tend to do all the talking.
and as I slowly butcher modesty
let me warn you about my smile and deep dark dimples
but there are certain peculiarities the eye can't see,
like the unabashed sexy side of me.
However...
If all this is mundane
for you may have loved and lusted,
many a women with a perfect play of lines.
I can offer you the tiny mole above my lips
My love, it is home,
the door to which
you have to find.
Artwork by
Jerry Uelsmann
Wednesday, 11 June 2014
BARTER
It is time to raise your arms,
and shade yourself...
The gods are napping,
the sun is angry.
Lets pray the mountains throw a cloud his way.
But a cloud won't do it,
a storm just may.
Let me flatten an old newspaper,
flap it for some air...
There are blisters underneath my skin,
it is hot outside but it is scorching within.
I burn with desire
Not lust
Not just lust
Yes I dare say its more than that.
And what has made us, the creatures of love,
whimper at even a slight mention of it.
Every eye that I gauge and eat,
is filled, not with slimy white thick liquid,
but air,
and pop it bursts under the slight pressure of my teeth.
This is not enough for me
It will never be
Barter your soul for mine,
be my pain
my ecstasy
be the one who I wake up for
be the one who sleeps in me
Let me have you,
completely.
Thats the deal
it will always be
To drown together
or float apart
you and me
just, you and me.
Wednesday, 21 May 2014
FIND ME!
Tuesday, 29 April 2014
NAZM ARAHI HAI
Sunday, 16 March 2014
THAT FEELING
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.
Sunday, 16 February 2014
SPARROW AND I
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
Friday, 17 January 2014
write!
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
Wednesday, 18 December 2013
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.
Tuesday, 17 December 2013
Dark times.
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.
Friday, 29 November 2013
Meri Subah
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.
Wednesday, 20 November 2013
Old Poem
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
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...
Tuesday, 22 October 2013
Laazim hai
Mausam ka badalna laazim hai
