Dreams Must Explain Themselves

They are not the culprits, the eyes...
no, not at all-
for, they are shut, tight
lids closed,
to sight, light.

In the darkness
they creep-
their steps
heavy, loud, reverberating..
or subtle and stealthy.

They enter the quiet
the peace of void
of nothing, but nothingness
that surround.

In the colorless darkness
they play tricks
create shadows
of myriad shapes,
speak in voices -
heard, lost or imagined.

Ephemeral -
the illusions
that entice
surprise
reprise.

Why they arrive
in my sleep-
dreams must explain themselves,
tonight.

Bonsai

Is it a shade or a shadow?
It protects me from harsh sun,
keeps me dry when it rains
but I need to be on my knees,
bent over
my back to the wall...
I can only stretch my imagination
in the cramped shade
I grow,
only as a Bonsai.

Resolve

It is part of evolution, they say
The caterpillar in me is now growing to be a butterfly
growing wings -
but sky doesn't beckon me
The green blades of grass
The rusty pull of wet soil
The slippery slither of spreading moss
This is my world...
The world of touch and feel
Of experiential joy
Ephemeral but real...
My wings give me falsehoods of being above it all
They make me adrift in an oblivion
A nothingness that spreads far and wide
I would rather walk,
And leave footprints behind
Let my wings be, I am not keen to fly.

Everyday

the night turned sides
a fog smeared dawn yawns
sleepy eyes fight off the nightmare
try to focus on the thin stream of light
engulfed in smoke from dead fire
embers long spent out
the cold heat
haunts, taunts
prompts
to rekindle
a fire
and i burn the night
setting a sun ablaze...
for another day.

बात करो...

कुछ नज़र की कुछ नज़रिए की बात करते हैं
बेखौफ़ हो के कुछ हाशिए की बात करते हैं
मेरे नज़रिए से तुम्हें इत्तेफ़ाक़ हो या ना हो
मेरी तहरीर पे तुम्हे ऐतबार हो या ना हो
मेरी आवाज़ सुनो, नज़र का लिहाज़ करो
ज़बान से वार नही, हुमज़बान हो, बात करो...

When words fail…

Do you hear me,

when words fail?

And, my stare- blank and stark

deflected from your porcelain smiles,

tries to stick on slippery faces

but unable to focus

slithers sideways,

right, left, diagonally….

When words fail

I hear

messages strewn around

-        in a million languages

waiting to be picked up, understood, replied.

How easily found,

yet simply lost

in the cacophony of connotations,

intended or acquired!

I plug my ears

with swishes of dried up conversations-

blocking off

murmurs and whispers,

magnifying the emptiness

they try so hard to protect….

When words fail

truth lies bare,

stark naked.

And, I rush to a book….

dahshat ke ratjage

ab loriyon se humme neend kahan aati hai,

ab raat dahshat_on ke saaye mein kaati jati hai

khuda ke naam se bhi khauf hota hai ab to

qurbani eid se pehle bapa ho jati hai

haath uthein duaon mein, kahan mumkin hai

sar sajde mein ho to bhi kalam hote hain

koi bandook se maare hume uske pehle

bharosa uthta hai khuda se, khala aati hai

yeh mujahira hai siyasat ka, jo tabahi hai

naslein nafrat ke talatum mein samayi jaati hain

jin haathon ko sanwarna tha mustaqbil sabka

unki lakiron mein dahshat basayi jati hai

gar khuda hai kaheen to phir se zameen per aaye

phir se ummeed jage duaon mein asar aaye

phir se maa_on ki god mein sukoon barpaye

ke, loriyon se humme neend kahan aati hai....