Improper – Words that should not be uttered

Improper –
Words that should not be uttered
Expressions that are bound to be mistaken
Are you not alienating yourself further?
Creating distance where silence wouldn’t?
Don’t you think you’d do better
by keeping mum?

But I was always
And rather happily
A misfit!
I seemed to mingle
but not completely
I was great friends
but there was always a line
Inside which lived me –
Happy in the ambiguity
of a lack of definition!

I have no desire
To conform and achieve a ‘better’
That doesn’t feel warm and true
That lacks the serenity of sadness
The warm red of overwhelm
Of love, that translucent hue
I debate if it’s aqua marine or baby powder blue?

If you are meant to understand
Only then – can you.

And the one who understands
is the only one who will.

For then
He would read beyond the stubborn stupidity
of ‘telling’ –
The innocent lack of intention
That one is spreading goodness not anger,
That it is good to be affected by affection
That it is selfless and un-demanding
One hasn’t understood –
if one is pressured.

And one who doesn’t –
Meant to be!
I am
either way –
From the chains of pretending to be
Anything that I am not.

But will there be more suffering?
Won’t it leave me distraught,
lonely and sad?
Will I, later, not feel really, really bad?

If I am meant to – I will
Or else I will learn something or another
Someone is meant to understand in time
For the rest of the world – I might become a bother

But then someday I will understand
If another path must be chosen….
And I will leave people alone
Meditate till I am frozen..

But till then
May my choices be an impulse
May I be flooded with overwhelm
May I know always, how to love
May there never be a fence!
May there

May 26th 2015 FB

मैं अपने ग़म से ख़फ़ा हूँ अब

मैं अपने ग़म से ख़फ़ा हूँ अब
कोई खुदा मेरा कुछ नहीं लगता

कांच टूट जाते हैं हवाओं से अक्सर
उठाओ हाथ कट जाते हैं और खूँ निकलता है

माँगा हुआ कुछ कागज़ों में फैलाया पटरे पर
जला के तीली आग ने अरमाँ जला दिए

क्या मेरे भीतर अब कोई तू न सुलगेगा
न है विश्वास, न उम्मीद, न ही रास्ता कोई

मुझसे मत करो बातें कोई अब ऐतबार की
खुदा से मांगते भी खुद से मुझको खीज आती है

वह मेरा था कभी बचपन में उसने बोला था शायद
न जाने इस भरोसे कैसे और कहाँ तलक चल दी

कोई खुदा मेरा मगर अब कुछ नहीं लगता
न मैं उसकी, ना ही अपनी, मैं अब कोई नहीं होती

मैं अपने ग़म से ख़फ़ा हूँ अब
यह मुझको याद दिलाता है वह
जो अब है ही नहीं।

May 24th, 2015 FB

Some dark rain cloud

Some dark rain cloud
I wish
would follow you around…

When glittering lifeless days
Shine into my eyes
That you come with sheets of rains
A cool breeze – intoxicated
Follows the two of you
And that a hint of that song
the one that trees save up secretly for the clouds
Fills my lungs.

I want to see, with you
Shy leaves drenched
A freshly bathed earth
The sky flirtatious
smiling within his mouth
As if he knows
I do not.

May 23, 2015 FB

Am I the only believer left

Am I the only believer left
For sometimes I get that feeling
“Don’t pity the dead Harry”, Dumbledor had said
“Pity the living”

So why does all talk of death
Sound morose and sad to you
It is a passage that is past and now
There isn’t a thing to do

There is no onwards plan
It’s either scary or thrilling
And the faithful will return somewhere
Be their God’s willing

I imagine mostly a soft bed
Where on no angle will anything ache
I somehow imagine being back with someone
I had perhaps left in haste

I imagine being home
More home than any home can be
Everything here is nice and good
But ‘that’ is quite the feeling

Not once has death seemed sad to me
As long as it was mine
It just means I am slightly bored and
that ‘here’ is too confined

That ‘life’ and ‘human life’ at that
Is some magnificent gift
Is such an arrogant thought you know
It leaves me slightly miffed

I do not produce oxygen
There is destruction in my very wake
Why am I such a great thing then
Better alive, still better awake?

I’d rather let the planet be
I’d rather not fight this ugliness
When I talk of just and love mostly
People think I am talking off my hat

Most things that matter, do not to me
I do not aspire to arrive and be
some ‘greatness’ people look up to…
If he remembered me, I’d be happy!

But if that simple wish must be denied
What is the point of getting it right?
The world was always this and will be
Till it’s eaten by termite!

For the sake of heavens and earth and kids, or puppies if you please
There isn’t such greatness to ‘human existence’
We are not God’s ggreatest gift!

There’s work, that’s there,
that makes one go on
Unfinished business,
And some hearts have songs
It is there till it is
And then that’s that
There’s nothing
sad in that!

May 23, 2015 FB

तब जब लिखती नहीं

तब जब लिखती नहीं
मैं होती ही नहीं
तब जब लिखती नहीं तुमको
लगातार चमकता है सूरज आँखो में
न साँस आती है और न दिखता है कुछ
तुमसे सुनू तो बारिश आये।


May 22 2015 FB

कोई काला बादल

कोई काला बादल
मैं चाहती हूँ
आया करे पीछे तुम्हारे
बेजान चमकीले दिन जब
आँखों में बरबस ही चमकेँ
तुम आओ बारिशों की झाड़ियां लेकर
पीछे तुम्हारे
ठंडी मदहोश हवाएँ और वो गीत जो
पेड़ ख़ास बदलों के लिए रख छोड़ते हैं।

मैं तुम्हारे साथ
देखना चाहती हूँ
भीगते शरमाते पत्ते
नहायी सी धरती
मदहोश सा आसमान
मुँह के भीतर मुस्कुराता हुआ जैसे
जानता हो कुछ
जो कि मैं नहीं जानती।

22 May 2015 FB

After his death

There was once a night
I stood on the staircase outside a house
A friend with me
Reading phone numbers from a phone
Calling people I did not know
(Neither did he)
But the friend who’d died earlier that day
Had done.
And so, they needed to be told
Death had finally won…

I remember in a haze
Repeating the same story
Over and over again
And a few replies
Though I cannot re-create them
Have registered whispers in my brain

In a way it had been expected
But it had always been expected
In a way, it wasn’t possible at all …
I wonder – Who will sit with my phone and call
Who all?

I wonder who all I wish to tell
Or rather
who all,
I’d wish I had talked to one last time
And what I’d say to them
I wish sometimes to leave last words on pieces of paper
There is always so much to hear, to say
And then there is none…

I wonder if they will tell you
And I wonder what could they say
In all that I have said
There wasn’t much to take away…
And I wonder what you’d keep of me
And what you’d let go
And after how long a time after me
Will you come to know?

May 20, 2015 FB

I cannot do that anymore.

When I am sick
Feeling heat around my eyes
The thermometer saying
It’s beyond dealing by oneself

I think on some level
I start feeling
And not before this stage
But now
That I deserve the rest
The sleep, keeping the computer quiet
And thinking, it’s okay that you won’t love me…
It is what it is.

I withdraw.
I go quiet.
And actually calm down.

Will I move on?
I smile.
I cannot look at life as anything than one that passes.

If moving on is replacement,
I couldn’t care less.

Could I have done anything different?
There is no way to know.
Could I have been different?
But then you wouldn’t be loving me but someone else…
Could I have been more attractive, played games that women play in zest and manipulative playfulness… and I find disgusting… I think I respect you more than to think that.

Every time I have met you off late, I have felt…
like an imposition and hated myself

I cannot do that anymore.
Moving on, is getting out of your way.

Will I be here, later?
Love is a promise.
This isn’t love yet.
I will always respect you and cherish you and remember you.
But it will be what it will be
For it is what it is.

And this clarity for the stress
The illness, the heat around the eyes.
I withdraw.
I go quiet.
Give up.

And actually calm down.

May 2nd 2015 FB

A poem a day

A poem a day
Has become my stubborn assertion
To live.

I do not have time to think of you
(Though if I required time to think of you, it’d defy everything I believe…
in the scheme of my existence,
you have to be constant.
You are.
And conscious thought – irrelevant!).

I do not have time to think of you.
I make myself – before I sleep.
I need to know I can feel,
Hope, cry, sing, smile, without purpose
Or the condition of an outcome…
You make me believe, even if for a fleeting second, there is hope for the world.

I create ‘my hope for survival’
By loving you the little we can allow.

I read, even if 4 lines of nothingness.

Today, I listen to thunder outside my window

I miss,
for a few moments every night…

Well, me!
And mountains.
Leisure time with friends.
Laughing endlessly for no reason.
Long poems and Harry Potter and my little girl and fantastic conversations.
Being utterly naughty!

And writing with a pen on paper.
I miss holding hands…
Couldn’t I write you a proper letter?
I am scared of merging with the computer!

A poem a day
Has become
My stubborn assertion – to live.

May 2nd, 2015 FB

ठहर के चल

ठहर के चल
यूँ भाग मत दिन
छूट जाता है
बहुत कुछ काम काजी
आज जो होना ज़रूरी था
मैं थक थक के यूँ लगता है
कि जैसे हार जाऊँगी
है पस्त हर लम्हा, हर जज़्बा
और हर एक ग़म

ठहर के चल
यूँ भाग मत दिन
छूट जाता है
कोई रिशता, कोई ख़्वाब
जो शायद लौट न पाये
क्यों ज़्यादा ज़रूरी काम है
मुझसे भी और तुमसे
सुनो एक बार मानो बात
कुछ दिन भाग जाते हैं
यह भी अटका हुआ है
जानना मेरा तुम्हारा और
यह दिन यूँ भाग जाते हैं
मिलेंगे किस तरह फिर हम?

मैं थक थक के यूँ लगता है
कि जैसे हार जाऊँगी
है पस्त हर लम्हा, हर जज़्बा
तुम्हारा ग़म।

May 1 2015 FB