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……

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….

मैं आऊँगा…..

दीवारों से हारकर जब जब मैं सो जाऊँगा,
तक़दीरों का राग लेके जब रोने लग जाऊँगा,
ढाढ़स बांधने जब चमगादढ़ मेरी आँखें बंद कर जाएँगे,
तब तब निराशाओं का सीना चीर के मैं आऊँगा,
मैं हूँ मिट्टी का मिट्टी है मेरी माँ,
क्या हुआ जब धूल पी के हैं सींचे इसे रंग लाल,
मिट्टी का हूँ तो दिखता हूँ,
हवा में उड़ जाते पंख,
क्या फ़र्क खून मैं मेरे या जो पसीना है लाल,
है नहीं डूबा सका समंदर भी जो अटल मेरा मत्था,
लोहे का दिल लेके अक्सर मैंने दर्द पिया,
ना जाने कहाँ टूट गयी थी चप्पल अब नंगा मेरा ये पाँव,
है देख चुका सारा संसार हर जगह मेरे निशान,
मैं हूँ मिट्टी का मिट्टी है मेरी माँ,
तो क्या हुया जो मिल गया खो गया नाम-ओ-निशान,
इक्का दुक्का करके इकट्ठा मैं फ़िर से जुड़ जाऊँगा,
घुटन से जब भर जाएगा मेरा आसमाँ,
हो रात काली और दिन भी साँवला,
डूब रही हो सारी आस,
तब तब निराशाओं का सीना चीर के मैं आऊँगा,
तब तब निराशाओं का सीना चीर के मैं आऊँगा,

Talking to myself….

I often speak to myself,
My voice for sometimes brings me warmth,
Shuns away the silences of the night,
The tragedies that were averted,
And those which bespoke a thousand words,
The fire in my chest that palpitates my heart,
And the shiver that often runs down my spine,
For my voice sometimes brings me a relief,
The rat race, the hurdles in my way,
They for a moment diminish,
As my voice calms my inner inhibitions,
Sometimes it turns musical,
I sing for the empty furniture,
The ukulele vibrates in my frequency,
But I am not alone,
It was my voice with me even in my mother’s womb,
My voice that sometimes crashes my mind,
And calms me down to sleep,
And serenades poetry that I sometimes scribble,
For this world or sometimes just my own eyes,
It’s possible, maybe even true or known for a fact,
Sounds cannot travel in vacuum,
I believe in somethings sometimes,
If not words, the frequency or even the pitch,
Sound definitely travels over plasmas of faith,
And touch chords of you, of me or even the inanimate,
The sound of me is sometimes my foci,
For I get lost too much in my ravines,
When people sometimes notice a peculiar me,
Oh yes, I often speak to myself….

My first try with the song Tu Jo Mila from the movie Bajrangi Bhaijaan…

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…….

Hold on…..

As I lay down in my bed,
My head spinning faster than the clock,
The ceiling mocks me, Jibes at me,
Dust falling on my forehead,
The posters hung on my wall,
And pictures of places I’ve been to,
People that stayed,
And those moved on,
Sigh for they know what helplessness does to you,
How attachment breeds forests that catch fire,
On the slightest getaway,
It too flutters some words through cracks on itself,
Stories that remind me of earthquakes brutal,
When rain came inside my room,
And the bed turned to a trench,
Like a sinking pothole without a bottom,
Layers of humus covering my head,
Mushrooms on my skin,
The walls sometimes cave down on me,
As anxiety kicks in,
Or maybe something stranger to me,
The person in the mirror a stranger to me,
I detest this stranger,
Sometimes want to embrace him,
Let him cry on my shoulder,
As I listen, nod sometimes, maybe give a cup of tea,
For something to hold on to,
As night engulfs the room,
And dogs howl at night,
The mind numbs, wants to sleep,
I try to close my eyes,
The spinning stops somedays,
And the throat of the ceiling dries away,
My bed becomes hard like the forest floor,
The skin grows roots,
And I hold on,
For the Sun is few hours away…..

At Home……

As the lights slowly dimmed,
The sharpness of his vision slowly fading,
Sounds drove him to places, 
Scents guided him towards the known,
When senses fail sometimes memories speak to you,
The wrinkles on the face,
The curves on the body, 
Darkness had engulfed his sight,
Fears ran amok, 
Rioting in his mind,
But as he closed his eyes,
The way his Momma had taught him,
Years before she had passed into the light,
He could see his friends, 
Their little hands as they held them together,
And he saw his Momma, 
Beautiful as always,
Daffodils in her hair,
Winds blowing her hair slowly,
She held his hands,
Made him Apple Pie,
Just like the 4th of July,
He was at Peace,
The rioters in deep slumber,
As his mind slowly lied down,
He was at home,
He was loved………

Mould….

Walking alone on the untrodden path,
Sometimes you may come across some like you,
Similar to you or maybe poles apart,
They might hold your hands,
Or will let you go,
As you continue to walk on the path new,
Unfamiliar, scary sometimes,
Full of flowers or thorns on the way,
Sometimes you’ll bleed with the world at your call,
Or in the dark of the night,
When not a soul is visible,
You’ll laugh with your loved ones,
The ones those warm your heart,
And soothes your soul,
Or sob in the rain,
Hiding your vulnerabilities from the world,
For the world doesn’t deserve you,
You’ll think as they walk past you,
Laughing, mocking, Jibes thrown at you,
It will be hard sometimes,
The crippling pain of responsibilities,
Expectations, mistaken choices,
The past pulls you,
The future pushes you,
The present runs for your life,
Nothing seems right,
As your world slowly diminishes to your room,
Or even the penumbra of your being,
Slowly that tries to vanish,
Assimilate into the void,
Close your eyes,
Sit on the side of the path,
Absorb the sounds inside that speak to you,
Paint, Sing, Write, Dance,
Your creativity is your biggest friend in times like these,
It goes to sleep while you absolve yourself in the routine,
And comes to you when you let it wake up,
Do something for yourself,
Something you might never show the world,
For the untrodden path becomes difficult sometimes,
Its their nature,
For journeys like these make Kings,
Queens and Memories that write their own stories,
As you burn yourselves in the foundry of routine,
A mould you’ll create over the times,
And fill it with your hopes and ambitions,
A butterfly will come out,
And the mould will break,
The Mould will surely break
And the path will take you home,
Where your tribe resides,
The mind and heart at last,
In sync…….

Void

When silences speak for the void in between,
Sound loses its worth,
Presence, absence, today or tomorrow,
Incompetent they become…..

ख़ामोशी जब बयान करती है शून्य को कभी,
आवाज़ खो देती है अपना आयाम,
होना, ना होना, आज, कल,
अक्षम हो जाते हैं सब……

Thousand Suns…

Her moist lips would always leave a mark on my facade,
She loved pressing up against me,
Trying to kiss me,
As I leant on for her,
Everything around would fade away,
The noises, people, eyes burning,
The hearts would beat in sync,
Faster than the tiptoeing horses,
That ran towards the horizon in the Greenland,
I would notice sometimes,
How a smile would appear on her face,
Everytime she came closer to me,
Her eyes shut as she lay on my chest,
My breathing made her sane,
She had told me a day we rested on the porch,
My eyes would sometimes meet hers,
The calm that I could see,
The ferocity some other,
It was easy getting lost in her,
The infinity of her long hair,
The sweet fragrance of her,
Everything about her reminded how can little things become important,
The little hairband, her kohl, the way she bit her lips,
She would always ask,
Why didn’t I speak to her,
Whenever we strolled through the woods,
A smile would form on my face,
The smile of satisfaction,
The way earth would whenever rain fell on it,
Filling up the valleys with messages from the heavens,
Subsiding the heat that had burned its fields,
Clearing up the sky,
Do I need to,
I would say as I held her hand,
And she, she would melt away,
Even though she glimmered of the thousand suns……

Light…..

The nights, the days all come back to me,
As I try to slither through the darkness,
Of mind, the heart or those billion dreams,
Your voice calls my name,
The sweet, serene and the melodies all,
My wings open to a majestic length,
The storm that’s keeping them packed,
Rains that moisten feathers oh so soft,
A distinctive light evaporates the dew of doubt,
The wind that keeps me afloat,
Takes me to places that make me soar,
And as I close my eyes to see you,
The light stretches my pupils to distances immense,
Your voice calls my name,
And the light guides me home……

Clear Skies

He was a cloud,
Thunderous and white,
That had brought rains to places,
Droughts had devastated,
Green sprung up in places,
Deserts and storms,
But fate had other plans,
She wanted clear skies…..


camera doesn’t do much justice….

The picture above is from the terrace of my house. You can see Shivalik Mountains. The camera hasn’t done much justice to the view.

Snow capped mountains..