i.
हमने देखे है लाख ख्वाब
आपकी निगाहो मे
मगर देखा नहीं कभी उनमे
प्यार की हसीन मुस्कुरहट

ii.
वो जो आवाज़ सुनी थी
हमने कल शाम को
आज पता चला की वो
थी आप की दिल्लगी हमारी बदसूरती पर

“People, people, people,
listen, listen well to this song
passed on to me by our fathers.
It is about the pale men
who came to our shores
in big brown boats.

They doffed their hats and proclaimed, “Dear sirs, this land is ours”.
We laughed at their funny names and
wrinkled our noses at their peculiar fish smell.
They came up to us and said, “Give us your gold”.
We smiled and asked why.
“To protect you sirs.”
So we laughed some more and opened the temple doors.
We were children of the sun. We didn’t need gold, did we?

Years passed and their numbers increased with every boat load
while our numbers dwindled due to diseases
brought by those greedy men and women.
One day they came and put chains on our hands.
We sighed and asked why.
“To teach you civilization sirs”, they said.
So we bent our backs and tilled our/their lands.
Our sweat turned brown land into green fields.

Years passed, and our last chief
was murdered in the battle of bended knee.
Then they came and took away our children.
We cried and asked why.
“To build a new nation of equals sirs”, they said.
So we broke our hearts, sat around the fire and sang sad old songs.
What else could we do?
The laughter of our children had been swallowed by the molting moon.

She traced the continents
time had mapped on my forehead.
My nose yielded its secrets of
rough crags and hidden crevices.

Her tongue traveled to the delta of my lips
and explored the rivers flowing across my tongue.
She slid down my neck with the help of her nose,
her mouth left a trail of lip locks as postcards.

On the plateau of my chest she lingered for a while,
inhaling the smell of civilization, hearing the basic rhythm of life.
She traversed the smooth plains of my stomach like a seasoned traveler,
sheltering for a moment in the shadows of my navel.

My back became an open ground
where she played games with her fingertips,
fighting battles with stiffened muscles, and
feeding the frenzy of rippling skin.

Every measured movement of hers
opened up my flesh like an atlas.
Her dimples gave me direction, her lips latitude,
while her hands struck boldly across my southern shyness.

I could not stop her probing fingers
from proclaiming freedom for my senses.
Nor could I resist the soft music
her slippery skin played on mine.

In her naked embrace,
I was a nation without borders,
I was a country without a capital,
I was a world without war.

This inhuman need
for people washed away
by words and vanity.

Threads worn thin
against the curve of continents
and breadth of borders.

That which I expect; notions of intimacy
torn apart by surprised thoughts,
beyond my control, beyond your sentiment.

Slowly, a sweeping emptiness,
black like the kohl in her eyes,
begins to settle in the space
left vacant by a departed love and longing.

A ray
of light
illuminates
my raw past.

——

So soon, so soon
my silent dreams
fell from the
premature skies.

—–

Look at our transient reflections
filled with a million lies
staring at us
like stuffed animals.

—–

At last
an emptiness
filled by
rippling applause.

—–

This red fire
between my lips
breaking down airy atoms
into elemental energy.

In the space
between your fingers
I found
a silence sleeping.

The interplay of roving fingertips
awakened hesitant speech
and, now, the frost lines along my eyes
and inside my heart, marked by the long freeze, melt.

My memory lost
consciousness as
a loudspeaker
recorded its last
lament.

—–

These songs are not original,
these words are not personal.
They just reflect my private sunshine
caught in the prism of public perusal.

—–

Perhaps
I was wrong all along
walking on the wrong
side of the sunshine,
while
in the shadows
your unknowns
revolted against me.

I hold silence in my hand
Near the Wells of Reason
As golden sunbeams sing a dirge
To the victims of virtual reality

Where were the heroes?
Of time, fate and sad yesterdays
As soft petals of sorrow rained down
From burning heavens up above

We tried so hard to run away
From the sweet smell of death
As time seemed to stand still
Before the scepter of perfect death

Finally, the union of earth and sky ended
And the skies came crashing down
A tormented wind filled the vacuum
Left behind by beautiful dreams and eternal hope

The promise of
what will be
is now the despair of
what could have been

——

We breathe, we learn
We cry, we wipe clean
plans that could have become
paintings of pure love

—–

Into the grey river
I jumped
To try and cleanse my soul
Of all the emptiness
Hibernating in its cold wilderness

——

God smiled
behind his dirty beard
a concave curve of triumph
Fate is his bitch indeed

——

Cut my heart
and you will see
words writhing
starved of love and hope
like the many heads of Hydra

——

Condescension drips off the chips
on their shoulders
like urine from a penis with prostatitis

——

The world spat on my soul
crushing my spirit
under a mound of mediocrity

——

And if I die now
what will I leave behind?
A few meaningless words
and some random memories
in the minds of people
who do not matter?

The smile of the sun
The sunshine of a smile

The sound of a storm
The darkness of the damned

The song of a shadow
The laughter of light

The tears of terror
The poverty of power

The color of corruption
The silence of sound

The texture of time
The memory of mood

The symmetry of solitude
The music of madness

The loneliness of love
The poetry of passion