अमावस वाला इतवार

उस टूटी दीवार के पार है

आज अमावस वाला इतवार है

यहाँ से निकल नहीं पायेंगें

ये भी एक डर था कभी

हर तीसरा मकान

दोस्तों का घर था कभी

चाय में सिमटी बारिश मिलती है

धूप में भीगे बचपन मिलतें हैं

टूटी दीवारों पे यादें मिलती हैं

सब मिल जाता है पर नही मिलता

तेरे माथे के शिकन देख लेते थे

अँधेरे में जीवन देख लेते थे

हर नए पते से ढूंढते तो हैं

पुराने पते पे अब घर नहीं मिलता

रोज़मर्रे में दफन मोहब्बत

आज हमसे भी ज़्यादा बेकार है

उस टूटी दीवार के पार है

आज अमावस वाला इतवार है

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Embrace

When a poet turns to face the realisation, that, words are always inadequate in carrying the weight of articulation, there is a surprising feel of both emptiness and liberty in his heart. The liberty comes to untie nerves, or to relieve heat off the formats and patterns. The freedom comes to let in everything that we are here for. The content comes of having gone the full circle from finding love in poetry to see it as an art to touch the divine and finally to understand its insignificance. The emptiness comes of not knowing the revelation all the way. The emptiness comes of not knowing that nothing was actually articulated in spite having written hundreds of poems. The reader was reading but the yearning his own nerves, aches of his own heart and whispers of his own unsaid. The reader was never reading the poet's poem. Writing, composing or the very effort of articulation in any form may be comparable to drinking or any other form of tranquilization, because these art...

Dear Nemesis

Dear Nemesis, Please read this letter at a time when you feel that I am gone. I might have not died but gone in much a real sense. I might have changed, I might have no longer been the same person who used to look into your eyes with an anger, that was more intimate than love could ever be. I am not gone at all, that's why I am here in this letter. My actions do not align with my core anymore. They never did. That, I have been upsetting you for the longest of times, is why I address you as nemesis today. The language of love, kindness and empathy is unknown to me. I speak in anger, complain, despair, jealousy and defeat. I am inept in speaking the right music. More than love, I have deeply felt the fear of losing you. I am so much in fear of the fixed patterns of losses in my path, that I opted out before you did. My handicap would never see the light of change. I would upset you till the point of being strangers. I sincerely apologise for such poverty. My idea of life was n...

A small towner with aerodynamic dreams

A small towner with aerodynamic dreams achieve a lot of dreams. The biggest thing they achieve is the realization of the human ability to be like water. They shape up into the shape of the cities they settle down in one after the other. The systems they fall in one after the other. Like the human ability to swim and cycle, every human is born with this as well. They don't realize it until they are made to do so. At every step they find a new planet. Yet they inhabit it like they always were from there. The metal dreams alone are the drivers of this strength of being water. Once a person realizes this ability, they exercise it time and again. They keep on crossing milestones one after the other. Milestones, the ones visible to the world and the once visible only to the self. Sometimes though, a habit, a change of habit or a pretention of it - are all milestones. A person identifies oneself with the identity of a big city for years on - only to hide the identity crisis deep wit...

Storyteller of mud and grass

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