More of you…

Take my hand,
And give me your all,
Close your eyes,
And see through mine,
The colors of the sky,
The warmth of the Sun,
The buzzing of the bees,
Working hard to gather nectar sweet,
For them, the others and us,
A little of the dirt,
That had escaped my hands,
Sands on the beach,
The shells that are no more,
Take my hand,
And take it all,
Whatever I have left,
The little of my being,
And the more of you,
The little of me,
And the more of you…..

Seasons…

I know it can be difficult,
The Mornings don’t please you much,
The nights are darker than before,
It takes too much effort to move,
And your hands tremble on lifting your bags,
The winds whoosh past you,
The trees do not move,
You close your eyes and see those,
The ones lost to time and circumstances strange,
Hold on to the memories sweet,
The nectar of years that amalgamate with your skin,
And create a scent that will last for eternities,
As you remember them,
Their voice and the way they moved,
It will be easy someday,
I have heard time heals most of the scars,
Cry for long as long as it clears your heart,
Crystal, glass and transparent as before,
And you let someone again inside your heart,
For love will find you and heal you,
It will be all worth someday,
It will be easy someday,
I promise as I hold your hands,
And we walk through the gardens wilted due to cold,
The Season shall change soon….

Ishq

The almighty rarely crosses my mind,
For I believe in empathy that balances the earth,
My being is the carrier of dreams dissolved,
In enigmas of the world,
Love me till the day My mind conspires,
And makes me feel,
The Sun has come up due to some divine will,
Leave a little love for me to spend,
The rest of my days in peace,
I grovel and break into pieces,
Let me not bury this deep…..

Breath

I will carry you to gardens of blue rose you like,
And bring you the sweet serenades,
For part of my being are you,
And your whole life mine,
My hands lose the sands that have our memories etched,
In glasses of fragrant silica,
Helplessness is what consumes me,
While I try to hold your breath…..

Sunflower

I dream of palaces big,
Those that have carpets exquisite,
And behold in them secrets of ages,
Ugly and sweet,
I sometimes dream of lovers,
That carry me to orchards of apples,
The mesmerising scent of the fresh apple juice,
Sweet and sour,
This wretched heart of mine sometimes weep,
When a song close to it comes next in my playlist,
Blasting through my ears onto my mind,
Triggering the emotions kept well intact in it,
But I have a tendency to overcome that emotion,
Maybe the next song takes me to a place serene,
I lay down my guard and let it work through,
The ravines that had dried eons ago,
And I sow seeds of love in places,
Where fire had turned the petals to ash,
The sky turned amber and the wind terrifying,
Music brings me relief,
The rain does to the scorching land,
I cry, I laugh and sometimes dance to the tunes of jazz,
They fuel my soul,
The sun to the sunflower……..

Tumultuous Belly…..

She walked through her father’s garden,
Where lilies told stories of love,
And honey bees nested on the windows,
Often alone she would mix with the trees,
The trees carried her secrets in their rings,
And spoke of seasons fair and dark,
When the wooden bridge broke,
And the river flooded the streets,
The trees would often sing to her,
Their branches dancing to her rhythms,
Or she liked to believed so,
For she saw the skies with her blue eyes,
Puddled with dreams of the sea,
And the desire for a shore,
She would often gaze into the infinity,
Sometimes a messenger would come,
Carrying the news of her homelands,
Where she was born,
Where she intended to die,
The other she would spend the day,
Plucking off weeds in her hair,
And tiding them for something,
Only she knew,
Maybe someone that would bring her peace,
The tumultuous belly of her being…..

Letters

I write letters,
For the smell of ink,
And the touch of parchment,
Withers away a part of my soul,
Brings it warmth sometimes,
The autumn becomes my guard,

I write letters,
For the words carry,
The news of the distant,
And speaks of emotions,
I like to preserve them in my box,
The one I got the day it rained,

I write letters
For I don’t believe,
The words that spill out of mouths,
That change in a second,
Or were they ever true,
They have an impeccable memory,

I write letters,
Of love to the ones I crave,
That took my heart,
And put them back in my chest,
Sunlight sometimes shines on them,
Termites never feast on them,

I write letters,
My body aches for those,
Darkness engulfs it,
And belches them on my bed,
I ain’t proud,
My stomach growls with disgust,

I write letters,
My past and my tomorrow,
Change is inevitable,
Change is necessary,
But the mould, it stays still,
The roots rarely melt,

I seldom write letters,
To myself,
Glory eventually touches their feet,
Those who shine at night,
The day is yet to come,
Some letters still on their way,

And I sometimes read the letters,
Carved in my blood,
Those bring me happiness,
And fly me to the Moon,
I keep them on my desk,
To read them aloud,
Whenever thunder rattles my windows,
And shakes up my house,
They give me power,
Letters of faith and hope,
The love I got,
And the love yet to come,
And I wait,
For I believe,
A letter will reach its spot……

Night….(explicit)

I let my guard down,
As she slowly pounced over my body,
Her claws reaching parts deep,
Damaging the years of broken promises,
She devoured the meat cold yet full of blood,
Obvious with her terror,
And with the awe of her power,
I let her bite me and mend the wounds,
Her bodily fluids mixed with mine,
She took over me,
And ripped me to pieces,
As I lay back in exhaustion,
Perspiring in the act and after,
The night hasn’t even begun yet….

Memory…..

I collect ages in my eyes,
The slow songs Autumn plays,
Whenever this wretched heart of mine,
Weeps for you,
I surreptitiously etch the days of my glory on the veins my father cast in gold,
On himself, the house, the kisses he gave me each night,
For him I am his biggest reward,
He tells me each day,
This mind becomes a grinder of sorts,
Memories that bring me smiles,
Of places, the faces lost and that stayed,
Behemoth it becomes and takes over my body,
Sometimes when I lay in the sand,
The cold water of the ocean washes my feet,
Heals the wounds that kilometres brought me,
The messages that never reached me, 
The things I could never say,
Nature sings a lullaby to me,
I am her son lost to the routine,
I seldom close my eyes,
For I want to become redundant,
Impractical, impatient, ignorant,
As I become weak,
For someone to carry me,
But I beam of sunlights when darkness dissolves my being,
My mother she brought me food that she couldn’t eat,
Bruised and still working till her breath,
I collect everything in my eyes,
My memory rarely eludes me,
The firsts, the birthdays and the lasts,
It’s satanic and angelic,
The two sides of a coin,
And as I creep towards the things still not in shape,
I talk and pull myself together,
My memory becomes my biggest weapon,
And the partner that helps me craft poetries sublime,
Makes me smile again,
Live that moment once again,
And I etch it on paper,
The ink it bleeds for me,
The hues of skies,
That day,
And I become one with myself,
The memories rarely eludes me……

Seasons….

I close my eyes as I lay down in her lap,
The fragrance of her sweet perfume quells my nightmares,
She slowly sings me songs her Mother taught her,
And her mother before her,
Songs that leads me to places calm,
Beaches where water clear as the sky caresses,
Mountains too, the morning where wakes up with the fog,
Sometimes she would move her hands through my hair,
Just like the wind through a grassland dry,
Cold, moist, soft,
As I descend into sleep, she sometimes would bend down over my head,
Plant a kiss on my lips,
Little did she know, they brought me showers,
Of something that my words fail to convert,
I would sometimes kiss her back,
But mostly not,
For that kiss pure as the first rainfall,
Hugged me like the first of November,
As summer slowly transforms to winter,
And apples fall from the orchards,
I sometimes listen to her heartbeats,
And wonder if she could hear mine,
Just like a songbox they play jazz to me,
I close my eyes everytime,
Her skin warms up my fists,
And I hold on to her,
As she pulls me close,
My seasons begin and end,
With her and always her….

तुम मत आना….

तुम मत आना,
की अँधेरों से झूझ रहा है ज़मीर उनका,
आशाओं का गला घोंट के,
की उनकी होती है सुबह हर पहर,
तुम मत आना,
की सहम जाता हूँ मैं भी,
अख़बार में जब दम तोड़ती है,
बच्ची किसी की,
शायद माँ, शायद पत्नी किसी की,
ग़ुस्सा भर जाता है इस बेजान से बदन में मेरे भी,
जब नहीं उड़ पाती तुम,
आसमान किसी के बाप का नहीं,
चाहूँगा तो मैं तुम्हें शायद किसी और से ज़्यादा,
जब अगर आओगी तुम घर में मेरे,
अपनी नन्ही उँगलियों से जब थाम लोगी मेरे सपने,
और जब पुकारोगी मेरा नाम,
उस मीठी सी आवाज़ में,
मैं दौड़ा चला आऊँगा,
नहीं रोक पाएँगी सरहदें भी मुझे,
पर तुम मत आना,
की शायद सुबह होगी कभी तो,
और देख सकेंगे ये ज़लील,
की तुम मिलती हो ख़ुशनसीबी से,
की इस शरीर से आगे सृष्टि है तुम्हारी,
मैं तब तक सुधारूँगा खुद को भी,
शायद कुछ आस पास के लोग भी,
तुम तब तक मत आना,
की रात अभी है काली…..

My first love…..

My mother lives in a dream,
Everyday she wakes up,
She watches me run for her ankles,
For they bleed of her smiles,
That she lost while bringing food for me,
Only to create castles in stone,
The foundation of which her desires,
I will always be her prince,
The one true worthy of her love magnanimous,
But I sometime wake up,
From slumbers of years,
The inertia that pulls me down,
And growls at me when I wear my shoes,
I work with all the force thats left in me,
For I want her smile never to fade,
And widen with each passing day,
She will be the first love,
Always be and till the eternities,
Till I can remember,
And do the stars,
The castle she etched in stone,
And the dreams she cast in thrones…..

My eyes shall always see,
The hero of my dreams,
The one that carried me in his arms,
And took me to places high,
I rode his shoulders,
And sometimes his heels,
I was his princess and will always be,
He brought me daisies, tea pots and ponies of wood,
The little escapades away from the school,
And cried when my heart broke alongwith the doll,
He carried me and my dreams,
On his shoulders wider than the world,
He will be my love the first,
The one who could never break my heart…..

For a boy his mother is and will always be his first love. The one who understood him even before he could say anything. She cared for him when he wasn’t easy and when he might have taken her for granted. No one can replace that position. A mother will never ask anything in return. Just a smile and her day is made.

For a girl, her father is and will always be her first love, her hero, her prince charming. She will always measure the amount of love that she gets from the world by how her father portrayed for her. No one can love a girl more than her father because he never expected anything from her.

From my experience, if both the partners can understand this simple fact, life would be so much easier for them. A girl can never take the place of her partner’s mother and a boy can never love a girl the way her father did. They can only try to replicate what they get from each other and if one is lucky, maybe she gets a man raised by a queen and he gets a girl honed by a lion. Just respecting, taking each other’s parents as their own will do the trick. Together they write the perfect love story, imperfect though perfect. Loyalty comes from both ways and it stays if we work for it, put in effort, sometimes easy as saying that I love you and sometimes difficult when the real, true face without any masks, any mascara, uncensored, real comes knocking you out. But we stay, for our mothers and fathers taught us, good things come when you work for them. Rome wasn’t built in a day….

Me with my mother..

Speak out

Talk to me and speak out,
I see rivers as they are,
And the valleys that deepen,
For I’ll be the same for you,
Clear as sky,
And smooth as the Gin,
The strings that pull us,
Together sometimes,
Might break us apart,
If they aren’t plucked often,
For they lose their tension,
And maintain status quo,
Communication is the key,
To the already thick padlock of emotions,
We keep buried inside ourselves,
For the world to see us brave,
Stronger than the rock,
I promise I’ll be weak for you,
Spill the beans of things that go wrong,
Or the ones that gives me wings,
For I want you to stay forever,
With me in my arms,
Talk to me and speak out,
As I listen and maybe smile or cry along….

Drunk

I am drunk and won’t call you today,
For my fingers reach my phone,
And I see your pictures,
My memories tingle my senses dead,
Your lips drive me crazy as they did before,
Soaked in your nectar sweet,
I would rip off your shirts as I did before,
And caress the deserts hit by drought,
Talk to you about your day,
Or the parts of your body that drive me insane,
And kiss you again for I want to love you,
Give myself and more to you,
But I stop as my mind plays games with me,
I cannot think anything but the thought of making love to you,
My stomach full of feelings kept in for too long,
But I look at your pictures,
And imagine the things I would do to you,
The alcohol keeps me sane these days,

जाम….

मत पूछो ये हाल मेरा,
है थामा ऐसा जाम मैंने,
की सच बोल गया तो,
उतर जाएँगे ये चेहरे सुनहरे,
आज चुप हूँ तो शायद देख रहे हो तुम भी,
कल जो बोल पड़ा इस मेहफ़िल में तुम्हारी,
फिर कहाँ छुपाओगे वो दाग गहरे…..

Do not ask for how I am,
My glass holds a wine dear,
This mouth if calls a name true,
Shine will shy away from faces white,
You look at me for I am mum,
My lips if will spill the secrets in your gala spectacular,
Scars will follow till the memories testify….

Company of Women…..

I seek the company of women,
The swaying of the earth,
And the wobble of the ground,
Distances mean nothing to me,
I feel warmth through the air,
Lust, thirst or the ache in my body,
The slow movement of blood,
Rises to my temple,
A woman does that to you,
Or maybe something invisible,
The dire need of the hour,
Rock solid her foundations,
She carries royalty in her palanquin,
Her body her abode,
Her mind her greatest power,
She can scorch the fields with her eyes,
Or calm the oceans with her touch,
I seek the company of women,
For they destroy you or build you again,
Fortunate are you if both are one,
Its the meek those sometimes think they can dominate her,
Foolish, ignorant, unaware,
For she lets one handle her,
Channel her energy,
Royalty resides in her every fabric,
And thunders in her nails,
Eyes of perversion rarely see,
The perils that invade her,
On days that aren’t kind to her,
As she fights silently with the criminals,
Other than those which frequent her,
But still each day brings sunshine,
The fortunate ones to know her,
For she keeps secret in her heart,
The world couldn’t bear to know,
They say to know a woman is to know the universe,
How true it seems,
Proliferation starts from her womb,
And ends in her navel,
I seek the company of women,
To be a part of their ascent to clouds,
The endless flight in speed of light,
As they guide me through the galaxies unseen…….

Reality….

The birds chirp and announce the start of the day,
As you slowly open the drapes,
And rays of Sun turn you golden,
Magical, splendid, like a work of art,
Exquisite only for me,
The wind plays with your hair,
Gently, not to disturb the sheer randomness that they are in,
My eyes absorbing this very moment,
Standing by the window sill, you look to infinity,
Maybe a thought that crossed your mind,
And you bite your lips,
A nerve here turned numb,
My eyes focus on you,
Those lips that speaks volumes,
Soft, like a feather,
That sometimes caresses my hardwood floors,
Brings them floods and warmth,
Of something celestial, godly, natural,
I hold on to this moment, this sensation,
My words a travesty to what you create,
Everyday as you kiss me morning,
And call my name,
I smile as reality seems mesmerising,
As reality is you…..