Wicked Dreams

Every child every man holds a curse when he breathes,
burning is the soul in wicked dreams while he sleeps.

The dreams of castles with symphonies of lyre,
are just stashed with lies as I rattle in fire.

“Fist through the wall, and no wall is too tall.”
But I am always on my knees, I can’t even crawl.

“Only through the night are the stars shining bright.”
But blinded by the flares, I am already losing sight.

“Charge. Push. Blaze. And to your dreams you cruise.”
Rusted. Worn. Brazen. There are no signs, no cues.

With sweat and blood, vowed my dreams to transcend.
“Light after the tunnel”, but this road never ends.

“Fight for your fame is the theme of the game.”
But these rules frustrate, and this abyss suffocates.

Crushed in dust, again I face my wicked dream,
loud with blistering eyes, “Bring it on”, I scream.

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A Moonlight Affair

moonlight

Waiting at the doors of dusk,
is an ocean clinging on the sand all night.
To receive a recurring visitor,
which it has known for long,
but have often lost at the sight of light.

A Moon’s Reflection is all they know,
and have ever longed and adored.
And just with its first sight,
the ocean lashes the shackles of wind,
strikes another bewitching symphony on the shores,
a glimpse with which it reveres in furor.

Like an estranged lover,
back in the familiar arms,
the Moon crawls up in the tides,
cradled by the ocean,
afloat in water’s lap.
Doomed for an eternal wait,
the ocean enjoys it’s reunion – a silverline.

Like a thump of an heart,
after uniting with another breath.
Like the last note struck by Chopin,
after which the song is finally home and we open our eyes.
Like that word in a poem,
that giggles the soul and finishes the rhyme.
The sea starts another affair with the moonlight,
yet again that night.

 

Not so long ago!

Not so long ago,
did we play in the same yard,
shared Paans and Hearts,
and not just from our old pack of cards.

Not so long ago,
did we sit under the shade from the same tree,
eating Gud and Moongfali,
dreaming of our lives together after fighting our way to be free.

Not so long ago,
did we both call this land our mother,
writhing in the sandalwood dust,
playing Pithoo and Kabaddi with other brothers.

Not so long ago,
did we both enjoy Sufi and Raags,
hearing the world hail us as one,
on the either side of Indus which was then unbarbed.

But, not so long ago,
did we grew so bitter,
We axed our land, our mother,
And threw apart the Tughlaqi taqiyah and Sindhi paggad.

But, not so long ago,
rose our greed for land and mountains,
that even the clouds feared to pour,
Ganga’s elixer over Pathani doors.

But, not so long ago,
we saw our children die,
be it terror in Mumbai or a school in Peshawar,
both of our hearts did cry.

But, not so long ago,
we decided to raise those kids who braved the terror,
on the same land so that on a day another,
they could paint the Himalayan snow, again, in red color.

Yet, not so far ahead, not so far ahead!
will there be another world,
tears will dry and slaughter will shy,
and for a peaceful Indus we will try.

Hindustaan

Tears to Aspire

For some its day and for some its night,
Some long to sleep, some fight to rise.
The truth and the lies are defined in our sight,
For us mortals perceive what we wish to realise.

The infinite earth and the high skies,
Yawps to humanity to read the signs,
Ask you may a traveller who often cries,
For a desert deceives him of water and a land in ocean’s tide.

On the mountains there’s a soldier guarding our nation’s pride,
And we rejoice the valor in his newest stride.
While we still walk our streets wearing ‘I LOVE NY’,
Mother land is weeping ’cause one of her sons just died.

The bizarre world of wants and needs,
To build an empire upon our greed,
Family and friends whom we never really meet,
Are we still confused in what we really seek?

Just the wealth, the riches and lavish desires,
Or a mindful sleep knitting innocent dreams?
The eyes of a child whom you left inspired,
Or a bullet for all till there is no one to scream?

The choice of life and a choice of creed,
Won’t it all shatter if there is nothing beneath?
In His woven symphony should we not just play?
‘Cause His is the last word no matter how much we pray.

Do I finally know, do I finally see,
What He is really asking me to be?
What we seek might make us bleed,
From what we hide might be the path to lead.

Look again in your heart’s desire,
For life ahead is a plaque to write.
To remain in oblivion or rise above this entire,
To touch the lives that we could just light.

How never did I long for tears as I breathe,
But for another world when I leave,
While I rise, leaving behind ash in fire
A mourning fleet in tears is all I aspire.

Promise, for the beyond!

Years and years later,
In our minds, when the past will be a little fader.

I promise, we brothers, will sit together,
When others might also just gather.

With a cup of tea, or wine, if you prefer,
We’ll sit, beneath the shadows from the past and the lights from the future.

We will then, talk and talk, till late in the night,
Until, in our hearts, the lamps of this decade will re-ignite.

The BCs, the chats, the laughter and the people we tried to lure,
We will talk, till we can’t stop laughing, but then – we’ll laugh no more.

For the reminiscences of being strangers to brothers and then forever,
Beware my friend, years later, that might just make us cry a river.

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