The dead whispers

IMG_20170620_222451 Where have you gone forsaking me?
The thumping heart after the morning jog,
The rustling leaves on a pale green tree,
The stringent sniff of a duty dog,
The whizzing buzz of a bustling bee.
The whacking on the backyard door,
The swishy splash from the swimming pool,
The bashing boot on an empty floor,
The whimpering mewl of a mule.
The snuggly wind on a winter night,
The whooshing rain on the window pane,
The whining wails of a dog at plight,
The fumble beat of a walking cane.
The clank clink of a vendor’s bell,
The tick tock of the railway clock,
The whisper of an Arab spell,
The blowing thud of a falling rock.
Hearing was all I had to lose
Cos you took my sight but spared my life.
But now, I hear you not, I feel you not
A caged soul with a life is all you’ve got!

To my daddy dearest

IMG_20170612_174648“It’s a girl. Again.”
Wasn’t this how I was introduced to you?
“No.. another princess”, you said.
And I knew, I met my lion king!
Tiny steps I took towards you,
For your hug always felt like home.
Teary eyed, I left for school;
And you taught me how to break the rule.
I faced the crowd with a thumping heart and shaky legs,
For you told me that in the life’s race,
We are nothing but puppets with a face.
I asked for love, you gave your heart.
I asked for smile, you gave a kiss.
I asked you not to grow so old,
But, every time, your love grew a thousand fold.
A friend you were, for my broken heart,
Though I knew we would someday part.
Today, as I leave you alone in our house
To that of another, whom I call my spouse,
I want to tell you about the man,
Who knows me better than anybody can.
He taught me to walk as I crawled,
And taught me to fly as I walked.
He taught me how to build a nest,
But never taught how to abandon it.
He hides behind a facade of smile,
Telling he wouldn’t miss my rile.
How does this man act so well,
When all I can is sob and sob.
The king brought up a tiny bird,
The tiny bird grew in a nest,
Today it is about to leave,
How can he smile without a heave?
Oh king! This bird might fly miles away,
And might also build a nest in a day,
But remember, it shall always remain yours and only yours!

The scorched land

IMG_20170605_020050A saunter across the deserted lane,
With a hunched back and a broken cane;

I see no roof, I feel no breeze,
What a dream, when I grew no trees.

The banyan shade from my vernal days,
Has been chopped for the need of space.

Oh sweet bird, where are you?
Did the scorching Sun burn you too?

You have no home, I have no shade,
A treacherous fate which none could trade.

I see no cloud, I smell no rain,
Will the land ever see a dripping pane?

The barren land, a thirsty soul,
Can they be quenched by this burning coal?

The greedy man can be trenched,
But, can his torso ever be drenched?

Oh my boy, plant a seed,
They shall feed, when in need!

The impatient mortal

Have you walked on the empty streets where once your loved ones lived? Have you felt the pain, seeing your dreams shatter? Have you seen broken houses which were once somebody’s home? Have you lost someone whom you dearly loved? Have you spoken to somebody knowing that it would be your last talk with them? Have you slept a night knowing that you wouldn’t wake up the next day? Have you felt the voidness though you had everything you need with you?

What is that actually? Love for the lost? Yearning to change the past? Desire to know what the future holds?

At times, we should leave these imperfections and quests as such. ‘Cos what’s life when everything is perfect?!

The forbidden land

IMG_20170409_002948Have you slept under the night sky gazing at the stars? Have you enjoyed the sniff of fresh breeze ruffling your curls? It was one such night for my two year old niece.

She pointed at the dark grey cloud, singing “twinkle twinkle little star”, wondering where they have disappeared in this God forbidden land. She wasn’t just looking for the stars, but for her parents who were supposed to be shining and waving at her. A fortnight back, she was lying between her Ammi and Abbu, dreaming about the future. And today, here she is, dreaming about the past, believing it to be the present.

We’ve always been told that there’s silence before a storm. No, that’s not true. There’s silence before a bomb too. No, we are not in an open terrace. We are in the basement, where we’ve been robbed of our roof. Every now and then we see a puff of smog passing us and all we do, is hope for a better tomorrow.

I’ve stopped praying now. The land I stay in is cursed and I am no godly. A week ago I was pious, but today I doubt on God’s very existence. And now, nobody can tell, he is no fable, cos I know that either he must be deaf or they have bombed him too.

 

 

We know naught of sweet dreams, 
We know naught of love.
All we know, is of nightmares. 
And the war stricken air above.

We know naught of rain,
We know naught of sunshine.
All we know, is of pain,    
Left with no food to dine.

As we slowly wake up from yesterday’s nightmare,
We are treated today with a fresh new one.  
We yearn for love and some care,
And pray, not to be the chosen one. 

We see no roof,
We see no flight.
All we see, is proof
Of our sinister plight.    
     
Rubbles are now toys,
And cement our make up.
Gas, now our oxygen, my boys!
So, you’ll have no dreams to take up.

Once a country, 
Now no boundary.
Oh God! Can’t you see past the distant blue;
Or have these men bombed you too?
All we crave, is a breath of fresh air, 
Oh kind Sir! Is that unfair?

The ignorant literate

IMG_20170326_211513How successful is success?
When it’s not thy dream,
That has been achieved.

How poor is poor?
When thy soul is at peace
And your thirst quenched enough.

How wrong is wrong?
When the innocent is accused
And finally gets his justice served.

How far is far?
When you’re done walking,
But still haven’t reached thy abode.

How common is common?
When thy basic needs is still a dream,
And the society calls that common.

How rich is rich?
When thou shalt lead a life,
That of a dog guarding thy riches.

How real is the reality?
When you keep dreaming about future,
Which seems no where near.

I know naught,
For this literate is illiterate,
When it comes to matter of life!

J for Jouska

IMG_20170324_120209J for jouska;
(a hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head)

I exist to redefine the dead;
Something you seldom dream in bed.
Am the dream you live with open eyes,
The heated argument that never subsides.
When the constellations fail to align your thoughts,
You give birth to me, which no one sees.
Am the fiery comeback in a debate,
When the past lies cold and dead in grave.
The guilty pleasure of meeting me,
Though the reality is a distant dream.
Am the dream proposal to your crush,
Minus a stutter and a head rush.
I always let you all to win,
For I’m just a din in your idle mind.
Success is yours, when I’m in force
Albeit thy script, the play is mine.
I blind your fear with a faulty gut
Cos am just a voice in your head.

The paper boat

Paper boat

IMG_20170322_215358Oh my captain!
Has the land gone dry;
Or the art been lost?
Have I slept for long,
Cos your love couldn’t be wrong.
I revisit the past dreaming about “us”,
Seldom I feel I’ve gone with the dust.
The gentle hands which crafted me,
Rowed me down the gentle stream.
You and, I rowed along
Across the stream singing a song.
Now, I could smell the petrichor,
All I couldn’t, is get you to the door.
Oh Captain! Where have you been?
Have you too gone with the wind?
Don’t you see the dripping panes?
Come, let’s go and row again.
For all of it feels like a distant dream!

The depressed soul

2016-08-12-18-06-13-607Oh! The land of blooming hopes,

Will the glowing Sun, rise ever again?

The eerie night has captured us,

Shadowing our dreams with dooming thoughts.

The morning dew on the window panes,

Reminds us of the long lost light.

Oh my love, the distant Sun,

Will the king of light, rule us again?

The moon-lit sky on a dim dark night,

Rule our lands with the starry troop.

Our race is scarce and our life is scarred,

But our hopes and fight can never be stopped;

For even the shooting star follows our trail!

The old school lanes

The old school lanes;

IMG_20170409_011154Many a step, many a dream,
Have always crossed my crowded lane.
Pressed clothes and combed hair,
Untied lace and few feet bare.
Silent sobs and angry wails,
A secret thing which no kid fails.
Your first friend, your first crush,
I’ve seen them all, in this very lane.

The silly fights for the window seat,
And the distant run for the kulfi stick;
The branches became the gilli stumps,
As the school band played the evening trumps.
I’ve seen them all, I’ve seen them all;
I’ve seen them all in this very lane.

Polished shoes with the stolen chalks,
Morning run and the evening talks;
Heavy bags with a lazy smile,
Emptied boxes in the garbage pile.
The cycle locks behind the high school blocks;
The buttoned collars and ribboned locks,
I’ve seen them all, I’ve seen them all;
I’ve seen them all in this very lane.

Your first lie, your first cry;
The broken pencil, the lost rubber,
The lost trust and the broken heart,
The torn umbrellas, the little puddles,
Loud honks and the silent prayers;
I’ve seen them all and heard them all; everything in this very lane.

And then dawned the fateful day,
The Mumma’s boy, now a gentle man,
And the dad’s princess, a grown up girl.
The final bell of the last exam,
And the final bite of your friend’s ham;
The stolen smile and the teary eyed,
“Nothing will change”, the young guys lied.

Oh young man, oh young girl;
Do you remember this sick old man?
He knew your tale, when you were young and frail,
But you left his land leaving a trail.
The memories you hold of this old man,
Are stacked up in piles in his barren land.
After all, he has seen them all and heard them all;
Everything in this very lane.