Tuesday, May 12, 2015


What stillness my heart counts;
I pant thy grace

What vigor I dash my heart;
I dart my arrow head

What presence my seclusion stands;
I sway thy momentous peak

What hunger I yearn my begging bowls;
I marginalize my breath


No glue sticks by my heart,
The loving memory of your dead past:
Lifeless and inert

Scab of wound
Peeve the pus
To hard dried red corpuscles crust

What long and lasting wait
Lash my toddy fate
To mount vapid my vacuous thoughts

No bond fasten my delight now,
But to cleanse and flush my gut
Gurgling down the gutter pipe


Why do you flinch your strength
Boasting your shameless reason
No tillers tills its land, shying
away the clusters of moorland

No cause is aptly defined, than
When your victory, seemingly
Fan the end of your ground:
The naked act owning an inch of land

Why do you make pellets of tears
Shooting to my softest heart
No gory end my body will balk, but
By my sweat and your bloody end


What madness
I drunk
By your image
Still, it lingers deep
Through my unkempt desire

What untold misery
I hold
By your emissary
Still, unarticulated I remain
In your implicit silence

To the glum
That eclipse my phase
Let the sun hold the gaze
Behind the polarity undefined

What madness
I plant
By your soaring height
Still, serpentine fear
Twist thy image


From an end of
Your vortex tip:
The roving cosmos;
You tattoo the passing moments
Grazing stretch of life:
The breathing and the dead

No bigger make
Is my little mark, that
Converge on me a chance
To fondle my birth
Years and again:
The abrasion of my life skin 


Heaving deep, I
Sigh my groan
Frowning your space
By my quivering lips

Begging my hands;
I distance your image, standing
Motion still, surrendering
In total defeat

I huff all your creations, and
Create my own
Whizzing wonders in the sky
Pulling my magic fingers to void

‘m a total miser now:
Charred miff and the grey ash.
Forgive cut of my lips, that
Quiver in every quake pawing thy steps


Hold my hoary breath for
A moment’s pause
O dearest,
My loving bard!

From yonder far
I can see through my blind eyes
The walking cane, with
The kind of loving stoop

What little hemlock,
I drank in pain and plum
Behind the closed walls of my cells,
It tamed my docile strength

Whose pulp I savor thus,
In full bloom wisdom; as
I quiver down the spine
To amble in vain

O there, the versifier;
Drudge my work
With tremor hands, and
Pluck my breath wearily to plant oblivion


A pretense
I wear on my dress:
Posing Raymond coat,
Drooling salivary tie, that
Dribble down the ovule
Seedling and tinkling
My pair of shining shoes

To knot, I
Buckle my shoes;
So much is there to accrue
Down the boulevard
An open space to concourse, and
A secure drive, down
The flab of facade;
Ah, the Pretense!


किस सवाल पर
ज़िरह करने का ख़्वाब देखते हो जनाब
सारे पैबन्द एक अजायबघर की हीं तो नुमाइश है!
ढूंढ ढूंढ कर जर्रे जर्रे में अदा फरमाते हो,
कभी मुस्कान लिए देह को बिलसाते हो !

किस वार की
याद ताज़ा करने को ललकारते हो जनाब
गुमशुदा की तलाश अखबारों में बेचते हो!
चुन चुन कर दीवारों पर रंग भरते हो,
कहीं दाग कहीं दर्द के निशान भी छोड़ देते हो

किस मांग की
आँचल सुनी करने पर आमादा हो जनाब
भय को तराश कर सीना फूलते हो!
फाणी है यहाँ जिंदगी की हर हाफ्ज़,
लबों को सील कर कब्र में छुप जाते हो!