Category: poetry

why should death
be celebrated by the flags bearers’ wishes
can we not pray
for all dead who have stood
in the way
of those who
see only black
and white
no matter, what shades of grey
say
why is there no respite

some cells lost their way
far away
on the way
to a sparkling sky
why has milky way developed cracks,
do they have storms
there
now, you are not here
though footsteps have become
flowerbeds
hope the aromas of flowers that bloom
next spring
and after that,
will embrace the misty morning
and tear drops
that fell down
on a dusty road
behind hillocks
trees
a small pool of water
river was also stunned
it forgot to flow

i know some cells in your life
have lost their way

will they be tamed
i don’t know but we are trying

some day
somewhere
we will tell these cells
they need not have walked away
like thsi
after all bring together with
the rest
they were whole
all of you
now, they will be excised, silenced, may be squeezed dry

but to what purpose
is getting lost is alays for
purpose
cells replied

——
on cancer, serious stage, of a dear friend

when the whispers in the night
woke me up
i did not open the door
nor did remove the curtains
whisper sound was from within
how do i open the door within

chand ke mathey par salvat
itni nahin
padi hoti
to kya chamak kuchh kam hoti

what was the point
you asked repeatedly
what was the point
the point was not to be found in words
it was a touch
of affirmation
of drawing your attention
to certain beautiful truth
but u kept on asking what is the point
actually
the point got lost
it is not even a line
it is just a blank page, now

whenever clouds seem too far
you cant reach
your chosen star
dont give up,
dont just sit idle
try, persist and go very far
farther than anybody has reached so far
who knows
roots of the chosen star
grows on the cliff
of a hill nearby
keep your door ajar
love will knock
knock and knock
hold no bar

someday
our paths will cross
again
all the purity
reflected on the brim of a lake
overflowing with love
will engulf
me
like a misty shawl

when the roads did not pretend any more
who is the walker and who is a bystander
i paused
hoping you will catch up
but you were not walking
you were waiting for someone
who had long gone to afar away planet
i am repairing the road thus

may be the flowers
on the roadside
will tell
what you can not say

aaraav

when some springs will not flow any longer
when the stones from the bed of dry river
will have become pebbles for paving the path
on which you walk
in your new house
when stars in teh sky will be witness
of all the tears that flew to wash the stains
on your curtains
which were put
to prevent light inside mingling with the light outside
you will recall
that the sand yard in which you had played once
still has the same sand
unblemished
unmixed with any impurity
pure
sublime
and subtle reminder
of the yearnings for
your promising, meaningful future, sustain it