Friday, August 30, 2013

In Remembrance

Meri adhoori kahani
Lo daastaan ban gayi
Tu ne chhuya aj aise
Main kya se kya ban gayi

White pages and a long silence
Wrapped in a quiet deep wish,
A little prayer, and unspoken hymns 
Shyly pass your moulds of words
Through the shadows of countless
Heart broken, tired lanterns 
You light with a sooty flame
Like the kohl in my eyes.

Like whispers of white
Among the petals of a faint rose
I ask my heart if you do
Recall my image, in dusky fragments
And bursts of cloudy aspirations,
Like a long lost music, 
A half forgotten letter,
A missed heart beat.

In remembrance sudden and intense
Puddles of golden light
Accumulate at my eyes and unfold
A screen of tales, a hundren mischiefs untold.
I wish on the curling smokes of incense
May you live well and be happy
O Flier of blue kites.

A tear for you,
The purest gift 
In remembrance
Of times lost in dream

Tuesday, May 14, 2013


Every morning as you wake up
And hold me to your lips like
The first glass of awakening
Water --- I become your need.

You cuddle up with the pillow
One last time and in your thoughts
You look at me 
Like a deer looking at its fawn.
I become a tender drop of dew.

You smile and hold my face
In your palms, cupped into a chalice.
I melt like sunshine and
Become a golden winged dream.

You kiss my eyelids
I feel like the luckiest starlet
Fallen through miles of silent skies
Only reborn to be your love.

When you rest your cheek 
Against my velvety skin
And touch my dimple with those lips
I feel like a wisp of cloud.

I want to spread my wings
Among the bluest of the royal skies
And take you with me
Among the petals honeyed with care.

I want you to hold my hand
As I take us away on green extremes
Afloat across life
Like evening flowers in a rippling stream.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013


You switch off the lights
And lie on your bed
While weaving a lonely thread. 
I come quiet, slow and silently
Flow on the streams of your mead.

I sit on the darkness the night
Promises, like a closed rose-bud.
As shy to the lips of a lover, yet
Yearning to touch the moist dew
On your skin and yet, tenderly nimble.

My fingers touch the grass on your bosom
And blossom out like morning flowers.
I rain down on your face like a shower
Of bokul -- fragrant and nostalgic of 
School summers and choked lectures.
The rain in your eyes shine through my
Forgotten face and reshapes my core of light.
I frame myself as images in dreams
And birds in homeward flight.

I fold my hair in ripples of night
That weaves through your sleep 
And rest. I smile a flicker of golden 
Flame that shines across your crest.
I find my nook and return to the nest
You built inside your breast.

Thursday, April 25, 2013


The mustard fields are gay
With cheer a thousand times
Galore than all the charging waves
Foaming like champagne celebration
Florets of disked delight
Beam at the bright in dark hues
Flaunting their brave flags of
Joy, sheer joy at the flaming sun
"Sunflowers!" they simply claim

A handful of evening rain
Shimmers through hues of gold
As he shines beyond the sylvan clouds
Like a poet who smiles
Beyond paints and white 

A piece of turmeric promise
Tied in a string 
And woven around her 
Neck on a marigold morning
Showers hopes of togetherness

The Genesis
Of fire, gold and immortal pages

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Of Art and the Artisan

Spring nights,
Warm with the fragrance of
Mango blossoms 
And the crystal star dust
Spread in peace 
Across the blackness
Of my eyes
Reflected in the nocturnal
Glass sky 
Seduces your manly art
Of creation --
The dance of Shiva
Frenzied in love;
The utmost Love 
That only she can hold 
Who inspires the dance 
Of destruction
Of helpless desire
The meaningless cravings
To belong
To own
To possess
Shantam shantam shantam

Dance to the music 
Of my anklets

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

The Terminal Post

I don't write anymore
Not to some casual eyes
Who would go through my beads
Of charmed prayers
And the holy smoke of thoughts,
Only with his sight.

Tell me, if you care
And only if you do,
I will write
And write just for you
A pair of glad eyes
And a mind that thinks
And dares to dream beyond the
Muddy and earthy things.

But of course you are caught
Between pairs of handsome legs
And skin of volatile
Youth and tenderness.
And clothes, purses, rings
Shirts, bedrooms, flings
And buses full of bodies
Swarming in sweat.

I have stopped writing
I pray quietly in my head
For you and all those there
Who believe in drops of woe.