Change

Someone has broken the shackles..

Was he in a cage?

Or didn’t find a way out?

Change, let him flow.

Another layer,

Until he is hardened too much to know.

 

 

 

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Imagine

Can you see the ship sail

On the deserted lawn,

And a city in the bubble of a soap?

Can you see the grin,

On that emotionless face?

That desolate shopkeeper utters no words,

And tells some beautiful tales,

Of the sundry efforts,

And the hapless fails.

Can you hear it though?

Imagine.

Are you alive?

 

 

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अब आम हूँ, ख़ास नहीं |

ना अर्थ है, ना सामर्थ्य है,
ना ज़िद है, ना ख्वाहिशें ही,
कोलाहल रहा करता था भीतर,
अब वह भी नहीं |

ना आग है बची, ना पानी रहा,
चल रहा हूँ, मंज़िल तक नहीं,
कर रहा हूँ,
पर आस है नहीं |

थक गया हूँ, उदास हूँ नहीं,
ना बैर किसी से,
और ना दम भर है लड़ने का |

रहने दो मुझे,
मैं ख़ास था,
अब आम ही सही |

 

 

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Direction

Searching for direction,

Sailing through the storm,

A knock on the window,

A wind of imperfect form.

The rushes, and gushes,

And the merciless blows,

The monotonous talks,

And the raising of brows.

The sentiments urging,

And the suppressing jobs,

The duel of thoughts,

The irrelevant flaws.

I step with the wind,

They look with disdain,

A constant urge,

Shouldn’t go in vain.

 

 

 

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क़ाफ़िर

क़ाफ़िर हूँ ज़नाब,
मेरी बंदगी बस अपने ख्वाबों से है |

 

 

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रक़ीब

वो सबकुछ है,
और कुछ भी तो नही |
पंख मिले तो रक़ीब आसमां,
उसे ज़मीन से भी तो कोई गुरेज़ नही |

 

 

 

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Sneaky peeks

And those sneaky eye contacts

between those weird dance moves,

they felt the appeal

of the very first time.

 

 

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Colder than before

On a chilly morning

when the sun falls

only on the face,

the ears feel

colder than before.

 

 

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दिख जाता है |

जो बातों में नहीं दिखता,
वह आँखों में दिख जाता है |

 

 

 

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मांझी

 

बेआबरू ख्वाहिशों ने फिर ढिंढोरा पीटा है,
वक़्त मुनासिब ना सही,
जज़्बा ही मांझी बना बैठा है |

 

 

 

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