Friday, January 27, 2017


शांत परे तालाब में एक रिस्ते की फुहार नज़र आती है दुरस्त, किसी अजनबी से मिलन की तड़प लाती है प्रतिबिम्ब के सहारे लचकते हुए अपने आप को फलीभूत होते हुए पाया है रंग भरे आसमान की छाया को तेरे देहरी पर लरज़ते हुए पाया है दूर देसावर दैयड़ के मुख से अपने आप को देहातीत पाया है शांत परे तालाब में, निस्तब्ध कौन वह मुस्कुराता है; चेहरा फैलाकर पहचान बताता है P.S. daiyad = Magpie Robin bird

Thursday, January 26, 2017

At the basement of my heart

Drunk me
An eternity
To my foe, that
I vision a draught
Till the dawn

Who cares
for dilemma, here;
Filled nights require
Necterine heart
To stoop a buzz

Tell the silent sentry, that
I measure not
The stretch of clouds;
Thousand suns burn
At the basement of my heart


Your presence
share sweetness
Over seven hills top,
Peak of tulip heart
play music
variegated in colours,
growing limbs
offshoots longer
in outward prefix,
While I search you
in glory of my garden
the mountain
dance to your tune
bidding me triple joy


Ask me not
To fly like an ash, that
You hold power
In burning flesh
A ray of hope
Ever ready
To give
Thousand suns
To wishes, crushed
In deeper thoughts, hidden
Behind the golden dreams


With what, religious
and cultural practices
I painted an eyebrow
stroking my brush
with black
on the rugged canvas
outlining an arch;
A glittering dust
from the stroke
Spangled up,
Azuring the sky
with divinity
To hold my brush


These structural plexus of
Hollow vessels
Flow unquiet things
Coloring thoughts in red

An order of unrest
was meiotic;
Pamphleting half
The homologous detachment

Unsettling preview
Have taken to borges
Crawling inside cranium
Slithering down the veins

How did it came, to
such fighting
when previously
Earth was at peace

P.S.: The Borg were a pseudo-species of cybernetic beings, or cyborgs. No single individual truly existed within the Borg Collective, as all Borg were linked into a hive mind. Their ultimate goal was the attainment of 'perfection' through the forcible assimilation of diverse sentient species, technologies, and knowledge. As a result, the Borg were among the most powerful and feared entities in the galaxy, without really being a true species at all.
The Borg have a singular goal, namely the consumption of technology, rather than wealth or political expansion as most species seek.

काठ की पुतली

जिंदगी  अब  और
किस  जगह  ले  जाएगी
जहाँ  छोर मिले
वहीँ  भरमायेगी

काठ  की  पुतली  पर
जले  हुए  घाव
के  दाग ,
दानव  सा  प्रतीत  होता  है

अजीब  सी  आकृति
असंख्य  भाव  लिए
गिरती  है
टन्न  सी  आवाज़  लिए

दोनों  ओर  देखता  हूँ
मैं और  उस  शून्य को
लंबी  सी  बाहं फैलाये
अनंत  आकाश में 

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

दिल के तहखाने में

पिला दो  नज़र  से
मेरे  रक़ीब  को
उम्र -ए -ख़िज़्र ; की
मेरे  आंखों  को
एक  पैमाना  चाहिए
सहर  होने  तक

फिक्र  मौज -ए -तज़बज़ुब
कौन  करता  है  यहाँ ;
भरी  रात  में
शहरयार  को
रूह  चाहिए
सज़दा  करने  के  लिए

कह्लादो  राज़दारो  से , की
मेरी  सहरयारी
पेमूद  नहीं  है
अब्र -ए -नक़ाब  की
हज़ारों  मिसल -ए -सूरज
जल  उठते  है
दिल  के  तहखाने  में

Tuesday, January 17, 2017


What you shape
Hammering on the anvil,
A metallic sound
Yield force to heights
Hammering hot and harsh

What sound resonated
Atop the alpine
One skilled hand,  did
A virtuoso cut
Along the mountain ridges

What cyclone stormed
The low pressure zone
The vortex,  put
A concave
To my sight


When sleep
started snoring thoughts
Dreams,  started popping
Sweet kernel soft

Laden with nicety
I pronounced vowels
Of my teller tales
Without audible friction

I fetched twinkling stars
Fanciful bulbous galaxies
Swelling my heart full
In merry go round


Why are those tiny particles
Seething under the surge
of brownian motion
Hitting the larger whole,  inside.

An unseen boundary,  comes
Lapping up the circumference
In expand so wide,
Colliding particle to particle

Those coloring spaces
Tug the inertia of one
In billions of collisions
Shaping the forms


Do away the invisibility
From foggy town;
Unfurling those freedom
Towards the toiling fields
Where the farmers toil
Seeding wet soil,  and
Oxen plough the land

Mulch those weeds
From the town halls
Cheering hatred and loneliness;
Planting greenery on the
Fertile loam
Where the bloom will
Satiate your broken eyes


As I was toying
with my thoughts
To burn all my past
on a CD tracks;
One sector mine
Ditto the same
crawling a child
inside me
and letting the burden off
All bitter memories
In a childish go


Some invisibility, sits
four footed
on an armchair
Breathing surrounding air
with a gusto

Longer nose of window, and
tranquil creak of an open door

You executed
An art
lesser to eyes, but
greater into my vision


Blindly I bewail
my heart out
Groping your whereabouts
in lost path, O Lord!

Take heed
of my silent submission
touching thy feet,
submerging an ocean into my eyes

Impute not
a fault on me, O Lord!
Haven't I cloved my hands
with your eternal aroma

I have forsaken
the drumbeat of my heart, that
In you, O Lord! I find
The vault of my heaven


Invariably you clop
my heart out
like wild hooves
hitting the ground
into disjointed fragments

Nuts and bolts, frame
Bigger bones mine
I live clinks and clangour
of metallic skin life
welting patches wide

What delusion I maintain
among this land of elves
Big ears with protruding eyes
Was I not choosen
by wrong God here!


Take a flute
of empty spaces, that
fret an uneven note
to my inner being
sans breath
sans any part to call my own

What filial bonding
Attached me here;
Detachment came ready-made
in heavenly compliance
Dithering every word
prophesied in haste

Take a needle
threading my wishes, that
even if I might live
Away from you;
suture me unknown
on distant planet
As corpse to aliens feed

'NOR' gate

How many pixels, must
I count in your images
for a coherent picture
that glued me to you

I have taken NOR gates;
Clusters of 'zeroes'
To breath a life in 'one'
and gained a bit of you

My computer is powered
by flow by current
that runs my software
Whose UPS backup is low

Don't crash my dreams
flashing a crashing error.
Where could I find solar cells
In this dark of the night

An obituary

I hold my breath
feelings of the dead
painting my sobbing heart
with froathing pain
in agonizing tears
rolling down;
raking my face

Life goes by
agonizing, thus;
with crumbling present
holding the past
in eternal flight;
to repent
our lost ones

I hold my own
to feel oneness with Him
I know not from whence
Greater silence
takes a huff
In longer flames

Tuesday, January 3, 2017


Come thine way
Into my burning heart,
Thousand suns blaze
Mowing scythe deep
Raving my rampant heart

I knew thine encumbrance
That hitch at my impurity,
Maw my lips
To my silent orifice
Agape I stand winnowing time

Surfeiting with excess faith
I back my folded hands
Cloying upon moment
With disgrace, and
Utter shame of unbecoming

My terrace have, but
One lonely moon
To look
Into these howling nights;
An elysium to beck my mound


Let me race
with the moving train

How many hearts
do you have
shut windows
on every station
it stops

Let me bargain
with the running track

How many eyes
do you have
win a haze
in every blink
with your running thoughts

Let me fly
while the earth revolves

How many phases
do you have
change seasons
with every degree
of you tilt


Sing, sing those
Painful prayers
To the molten skies
A great magma, flows
Down my listless heart

I consume fire
By my burning heart
Ashen I see, those
Black shoots rising

Take note from
The hearth mine;
Those faith
That was live,
Is wiggling in pain

Mark these untidy war
That strew
Over my silent grave
Elegy of the finer kind


Spurn not the flight
From inside the sky lagoon,
An eternal yarn has spun
A dream cocoon for you

Weave not the fabric
From your illusory self,
Tend your dreams
Flapping reality check

Stop not the souls flight
From one abode to the next,
Many forms of the formless
Will take a swift flight on you


How you murmur
Those sweet songs
Into those big leafy ears;
One sway of a tree
Stands tall
To all surrounding air

I flirted my thoughts
To all corners
After knowing you;
How is that
I stand still, and
You bind my trunk around

How not
You gain my 'self'
from me;
I remain no more
You prefer to blow my memory


Why you set fire on me
Like a chickpea in the pot
Ceaselessly leaping flames
Burning me atop

Why you scuttle my boat
Ebbing a retreat
Mayst mercy cometh
With greatest tribulation

What shall consume
Pleasure flesh and grown up skin
Tearing my love apart
With lower abasement

Begone from my sight
Reigning wrath on me
Until neither existence, nor
Self remains to trouble thee

Burn me, O trusty friend
My victory awaits
After my death
In being burnt I live true


कमीज के बटन को
गले तक टांक, की अभी
बदन में नए रंगों की
फुहार बाकी है
कॉलर के अस्तर को
आहिस्ता टटोल, की अभी
सांसों में
गैरत बाकी है
चंद फटे कपड़ों की
यह लरज़;
नज़र से नज़र
 बेज़ार होने लगता है
उनके खेमे की
सौ खामिया तेज़,
मेरे पैबंद
पर नज़र मारती है