Handcuffs

Love, did I tell you that
I hand-picked each syllable of
The verses you tossed at me
In your fits of affection,
They still sing in my playlist
I never hush them up

Love, did I tell you that,
The hues you so loved
Are trapped in my knitting pins
On long haunting nights,
That half-done crimson sweater
Still comforts me to sleep

Love, did I tell you that,
The cotton socks we bought
In matching fluorescent colors
In flying pups, giggling kittens print
On the New Year flash sale once
Still warm my feet on coldest days

Love, did I tell you that,
You flew off but I am still caged
With my heart and soul tied
With handcuffs only I can see

*

We are often handcuffed by things that seem simple and innocuous. They affect us emotionally in many ways. 

Revive

I penned this poem years ago. Revival is not only inevitable but it is necessary as well. Everything stagnant rots. Shedding off emotional baggage is an important step of this process.

गुफ्तगू

नीम  शब्  बेहोश चाँद  और एक ग़मज़दा  दिल 

आज  ज़िन्दगी  को  गुफ्तगू  करने  बुलाया  है ...

Lockdown

अपनी छोटी सी मुट्ठी में एक टुकड़ा धूप पकड़ती 

अपनी ललचायी आंखों से अपनी भाइयों को निहारती 

उस गेंद को उनसे ऊपर उछालना चाह्ती हुई बच्ची

वो मैं ही तो थी 

अपनी थकी हुई माँ के साथ चूल्हे के पास सिकती 

शाम होते ही खेल छोड़ घर भागती वापस आती  

अपनी दादी के साथ मंदिर सत्संग में बैठी हुई 

वो मैं ही तो थी 

स्कूल में सहेलियों के साथ पीछे की बेंच पर, धीमे हंसती 

घर का फ़ोन नंबर मांगने वालों को शिकायत का डर देती 

बूढ़े टेलर से अपनी स्कर्ट को बार बार और नीचे सिलवाती हुई 

वो मैं ही तो थी 

एक ही रास्ते से चुन्नी लपेटे चुपचाप कॉलेज आती जाती

बनारसी साडी में शर्माते हुए चाय समोसे की ट्रे लाती 

एक अजनबी से ख़ुशी से सात जनम जुड़ती हुई 

वो मैं ही तो थी 

अपने बेटे में अपने अधूरे सपने छुपाने वाली 

अपनी बेटी के लिए चुन चुन दहेज़ जोड़ने वाली 

खुद को भूल सबकी पसंद को पूरा करती हुई 

वो मैं ही तो थी 

वो खिड़की, वो मंदिर, वो पीछे की बेंच 

वो सीधा रास्ता, वो टेलर, वो रसोई

मैंने तो हर तरह के 'lockdown' देखे हैं

तुम्हारे लिए ये सिर्फ एक नया शब्द है

जिसने तुम्हे परेशान कर दिया है 

पर मैंने जाने कितनी सदियों जिसे हर रोज़ जिया है 

भूख (Hunger)

बदला बदला सा है लग रहा वो शक़्स क्यों  

के भूख नहीं जानती तहज़ीब-ो-अदब कोई 

शहर से जा रहा वो छाले लिए पैरों में 

के उसे बुला रहा गांव का टूटा घर कोई 

Last night I saw a very disturbing video of a migrant laborer eating a dead dog on a highway in Rajasthan. He must have been terribly hungry and destitute. This is the story of our laborers who leave their villages for cities to earn bread & butter. Cities have proved them wrong; there is no love for them. Employers have not paid them their dues and government is busy in blame games. The poor migrants are going though a very rough patch. That video shook me somewhere deeply and these poems came out. I applaud people who are helping them. At the end of the day, it is people supporting each other only.

The translation –

Why does that person seem different these days?

For hunger knows not of any manners & etiquettes

He is leaving the city with blisters on his feet

For that tattered hut in his village is calling him

Caravan

I keep your warmth tangled in my tresses

Like the wispy clouds entangle the moon

Trapping its silvery halo in dewy softness,

Like a seed within some fleshy ripe fruit

I carry your gaze in my wide open eyes

In them it quietly floats instead of sleep

Like mist over two far-off mountain tops

Like long dead stars on a placid lake

I keep your smell filled in my breath

Laden with old woods, untamed seas

Moss covered rocks on soaked earth

Like a mouthful of winter breeze

I keep your touch locked in my fist

In my palms that I stare night & day

Guessing which line may lead to you

Like a traveler trailing his caravan

That he knows well too, has long gone…

Did You Say Liberty?

Did you say liberty or was it something else?

Was it for a cause, young blood like water spread?

As wilted roses, pride of beauties lay under the feet

And wails of distressed mothers till heavens did reach

Marches of freedom to new dawns paved the way

But tyranny crept in though old evils you did slay

In joy, savagery danced once the aims were over

Liberty’s flag lost color to coercion’s exposure

With both the hands you snatched the crown

Too hastily, in love of their bleeding throne

Once shining arrows, meant to break all clamps

Now lie affronted like boats left rusting on land

Freedom in the morning was control by the noon

Vile were evenings, finally sadism by the moon

But what goes around comes too, it doesn’t stay

Power absolute corrupts fully, all the wise men say

A new wave will rise soon to break the patterns

Again young blood will be profusely splattered

Even then, the wheel will move on the very path

Till some other wave breaks that epoch of wrath

It will fill old shoes in the name of a novel cause

But none would care taking the road traveled less

This order never will cease; it’s destined to repeat

Thus, same end each crusade inevitably shall meet

Did you say liberty or was it something else?

(I penned this poem a few years back)

Scar

A Little Sin!

How I fancy being Satan’s chick!

I am dead certain we will click

I’ll be a beat in his hollow heart

And the muse of his demonic art 

Lucifer, my darling, count me in!

For what’s life minus a little sin?

An old one, penned a few years back 

A Motherless Child

Stars gleam together

Moon wanders alone

A motherless child

My Art On Cover Page 3

I am happy to have painted the cover page for this title.
Cover painting done in color pencils

:)

Lakdi Ka Pul III

I am glad to share that three of my poems have appeared in 'Lakdi Ka Pul III' an international multilingual poetry anthology published by Twin City Poetry Club, Hyderabad.

Cheers!

Wound

With one callous gaze she cut him deep

As tide cuts the shore in a single sweep

No, he did not lament nor weep

Just muttered with a dismal breath 

“This wound will bleed me to death”

From 'You Must Be Around- 80 Poems on Love, Life and Longing' (2016)

Tell me

Tell me what pinched you more

That I refused to be sorry

Or did so with a nerve?

Winter Sunsets

I just cannot describe it too well in words

But there’s something with winter sunsets

They offer a certain catharsis, fairly deep

One that lets all the peace until heart seep

Soft steamy frost and smoky bare skies

When merge in dull noises, dreamy eyes

Create a perfect canvas where I etch out

What I’m convinced of and what I doubt

Although hues of grey too respite brings

But they soothe heart and loosen strings

In a way I just cannot describe in words

But there’s something with winter sunsets

The Hungry Man

One in white and another in saffron

Both beguiled a nameless feeble man

On to their sides with much fervor

Tried all they could to win his favors

And preached him respective canticles

Their concepts of hell and paradise

Of death and being and after-life

Of religion, faith and myths

Of society, perks and benefits

And when all insight out they did blurt,

He was asked the side he would convert

Saffron and white, stress both did exert

But he thought for a moment and alleged

He belonged to the biggest assemblage

“I, of the clan and order of the hungry

Can be every color you want me to be

But any day I would surely choose

To thy range of Gods, a mouthful food”

Honestly said the man and glaringly stared

But white and saffron were as if prepared

They tagged him a mole of another color

Cried, nasty seemed his ‘humble’ answers

And for having their ‘pure’ image maligned

The hungry man was jailed, for speaking his mind

Somewhere Deep...

Somewhere deep within my bones 

Your last goodbye still echoes...

Haiku Horizons- Coin

This is for Haiku Horizons and this week's prompt is 'Coin'

5-7-5

Half-Dead Liberty

RIP veteran Indian journalist Gauri lankesh and other such crusaders of truth who were silenced forever. However, truth always finds its way out. 

Haiku Horizons- Cake

This is for Haiku Horizons and this week's prompt is 'Cake'

5-7-5