तो क्या हुआ जो आसमाँ आज साफ़ नही, हवाओं में कुछ गुमशुदा सा है, कुछ भीगी भीगी सी आस है, मद्धम सी चल रही नदियाँ हैं,
तो क्या हुआ नींद नहीं आ रही है, करवटें बदल बदल के तुमने जो रातें काटी हैं, ना रात गुज़र रही है, सूरज जैसे कहीं छुपा सा है,
तो क्या हुआ जो रास्ते उलझे उलझे से, शक के धुएँ में मंज़िल नज़र नहीं आती है, मैं किस और जाऊँ, क्या यही मेरी राह गुज़र है,
मैं सोचता सब हूँ, सोचता शायद कुछ भी नहीं, एक ख़याल ज़रूर आज आया है, तो क्या हुआ जो नहीं मैं जो होना था, जो हूँ शायद नहीं भी होता, मगर यह ख़याल आज जाने दे, की आज मैं मुझमें कुछ रहना चाहता हूँ, की आज बस सोना चाहता हूँ…….
I smile through the days and nights, When the Sun rises slowly through the dark, And Winds bellow loudly amongst the trees, The fruits fall over the heads of passengers, The water that touches feet of the unknown,
I smile through seasons and rains, The summer makes me dance and shine, The songs the little caprices play, Over mountains laden with snow, And the skies that paint with clouds,
I smile through mysteries and the uncontrollable, For man rarely has control over them, The twinkling of stars, Life on a distant Moon, Somewhere its day and the other nights,
I smile for smile is what I have, The little creeks on my cheeks, The wrinkles of the ages when the Sun wasn’t up, And I slept for days weren’t kind, The nights smelt of disappointment, And I was never hungry, For I know now what it means to be happy, A bag full of sunshine and a grain of night, A drop in the ocean and a flight amongst the planets, It is everything and nothing at all, A perfect oxymoron, Isn’t happiness just a state of mind……………..
Bereft from the identity accorded to myself, I slowly dissolve in the middle of the night, As waves of malign sincerity infest me, I keep my eyes shut, And clench my wrists over the sheets drenched with my sweat, Rarely and remotely my body derives a mind of its own, For it behaves in manners strange to me, I see clouds in my room, And valleys over my head, I slowly dissolve into an oblivion, As something vicious pulls me down, That doesn’t come to me in the day, But as the day sets and moon knocks on my door, It becomes a part of me, Something necessary, like the saint who needs his daily whiskey, I close my eyes and shut them with my bare hands, Maybe sleep will make it better…………….?
I see dreams wrapped in satin wraps, Those speak of places filled with gold, The roads where are always straight, And speak of plenty and plenty more, Once a while I too see, Little packets wrapped shabbily, Sometimes an old newspaper, Or a filthy old bag, They speak of insecurities and helplessness, That birth fighters among those that have cracked heels, Might be them that still maintain the balance, For dreams aren’t saved for those wooden floors, A balloon might pop once a while……
The wind that carries in it, The cold of the distant glacier, That melts everytime it hears your name, A ballad of sweet symphony, And the Oh so petite heart of mine, Why do you beat so more, The wind that carries in it, Your perfume made of gold, It breaks the chains ancient, Rusted and crippled with dust, The wind brings me peace, Just like that kiss of yours……
A flower slowly that hugs the air, Opening up its petal for the outside world, A melody that catches ears adrift, And makes them wonder the soil it stands in, Clenching the little pebbles like the hands of a newborn, Its almost miraculous that nothingness creates something spectacular, Out of things extraordinary, That mingle around the dust settled, A similar kind of love, A man brings for his woman, Sweet, discrete, wrapped in layers of lavender, That slowly unravel and fills the air with fragrances eternal, He holds her hands with the utmost sincerity, Gentle and firm like the tendrils of Fuchsia, How hard a man can love, They are quick to ask, Just like the oysters buried in the sand, They bear pearls spectacular, It kills them to love her, They rejoice as she comes out pristine, For the world to see, Admire and fall in love, He lies on the ground motionless, For his love is complete, For the world to see, A man loves discretely, Just like the air that hugs a flower slowly, Its fragrance that travels around the globe, Like carnations in the sea……..
I wish I could hear you speak, A sweet slow symphony, Music to ears, the orchards that bloom, Fruits incessant over the ledges of rainbow, Brewed eloquently, just like a perfect rhythm, But I carry you in my heart, That sometimes remind me of you, As I caress the winds and lay down my palm, Thinking of you, My old best friend……
I shiver with the cold incense, Sometimes that light up my petite insecurities, Brewed slowly inside of me, In places secluded from the obvious world, And tether me onto a thread minuscule, Almost invisible, It becomes a daily conundrum, The blanket doesn’t warm me anymore, And the fan spews spitfire, I drift steadily, Sometimes away and the other to, The goal I had seen in times ancient, My timelines still blurred, Although I move, capture and achieve, One step at a time……
This little ant was the inspiration for the above poem. I captured this one as I was sitting in my garden, trying to admire the little things in life…..
I sip slowly, For my mind is a catharsis of the fast, Purging with the intense music, It sometimes hear, Up in flames, Or the mask of entitlement, It bears fruits drugged with immaculate perfection, That bereft my senses of their glory, Same as the wind that sometimes settle, After a storm, Aren’t destruction and construction the same sides of a coin………..??
I wish it were this easy, The soft music a harp plays, A singer that matches its frequency, And you close your eyes to its tune, I wish it were this very moment, The one we are always in, That happiness strikes us in place never been touched before, And silences become simple, Not something to run from, Not something to eradicate, The flow of words would sometimes be easy, The mind coherent with the body, I like to believe that someday, A day not yet named, Someday when the sound of water running, The erratic whistle of the distant engine, Or the shrieking noise that pierces my mind, Won’t be something that crawls my skin, And bring me anxiety that knows no bound, I like to believe that day would come, When I am at my lowest, And the earth begins to close upon my sky, For if hope isn’t what a being can put up to, It’s criminal to see the light……
My bed knows stories, A night when the windows, Splurged cold winds onto my bare chest, Shivers cracked my heels, A weight heavy, An anchor tied to a ship, It knows my stories, Mixed with the whiskey I spilled, Glass broke and pierced my skin, Still embedded in my stomach, The marks stretched, I sleep on it most of the times, Belly on the bottom, For it brings me lullabies, Simple, just like the tick tock of my clock, My bed knows stories, Most of it, Just like the ink I emboss these days…..
I am slow these days, Blood turning viscous each day, And the skin to the color yellow, The breath falls short as the leaves turn red, Sky speaks stories of the night, I turn to the mirror these days, When the light creeps out my front window, Scaring away the little eccentricities my consciousness carries with her each day, And I hold onto my fears, The world trembles and jiggles the mind, I am slow these days, Maybe I ran too fast….
The slow music that pierces my ears, A soft serenade, the symphony of the night, Bodies clinging to one another, No fear, one night is all they have, And I am here, Sipping the oldest whisky this bar has, Still sober…..
Last night as I was sleeping, She crossed my mind, The cold sea breeze that unfurled her hair, Slowly gyrating along the rotation of the earth, Her eyes watched the distance sun set in the horizon, Murmuring in her ears the stories lost to the ocean, She laughed as the water touched her toes, Leaving the cold sand behind her ankles, And cried as a shrill numbed her ears, I have seen it all, I like to tell myself, The days when I wake up, Her presence a somber song of the night…….
I see you walking by the stars, Holding your breath for the Sun to see, For one life they say is enough for mortals like us, Blood and bones walk the scorching earth, Bleeding to find a space among the legendary, Sometimes despair, the other hopes for light, I see your face in these people sometimes, Lost, waiting to be found, Searching for their home, That would eventually bring them peace, Peace that would cure their internal storms, And you could sleep easily, For hours that you may desire, No thought of what to do next, What to become, What further to sacrifice, Just sleep with eyes closed, Even on a floor made of stones……
The Sun kisses her on days, Clouds veil the reality, And bring serenity to the distant village, She lights up and the rays rejoice, The golden strands of her hair, Like tails of comets, Celestial, Mystic, The focii of my being……
It slowly takes over me, The melodious cacophony of the night, Dorned with scents velvety, It pierces my heart, Into many pieces, The few I bleed everyday when I wake up, Onto the side of the bed, You are not here, I plunge myself into oblivion, The brothels sometimes hear my stories, For my mind knows those bodies aren’t you, This wretched vessel still needs a beating heart, A touch not even remotely close to as yours, My eyes deceive me often, And I see myself falling into abyss, Every time a figure resembling you, Touches me, comes even close, For a sweet serenade the night sings, I hold onto strangers, They kill me softly, And I close my eyes, As breath becomes my only enemy, The other side of my bed, The only side of my bed……..