The Mullah and his girlfriend had been in a longterm relationship for a few months. His girlfriend constantly complained about not meeting enough but the Mullah did not want to travel to her town to meet her very often.
ज़ख़्म
जब रखा सीने पर हाथ उन्होंने तो रूह हमारी जैसे सिहर सी उठी जब उतरा गिरेबान सिर से मेरे तो सूखे ज़ख़्मों की परत जैसे उखड़ सी गई
The Relentless Sea
The sea does not relent. The waves come and hit the shore again and again and yet again. The sea does not stay still. It keeps moving, its surface always in a state of flux. How unstable it is. Well, not unstable, I say it as if it is a bad thing. It is how… Continue reading The Relentless Sea
The Power of Words
Nîn o Chithaeglir lasto beth daer; rimmo nín Bruinen dan in Ulaer When I first heard these words flow from Arwen’s mouth and then saw a gush of water engulf the malicious Ringwraiths of The Lord of the Rings, something about it struck me, something I still find hard to put into words. This feeling… Continue reading The Power of Words
Give me a moment please
There goes another dream And here I am Back with myself What a roller-coaster life is Give me a moment please Let me catch my breath Before we go again Tossing and turning In the loops we make Jumping and falling The hoops of life These hoops that we make Give me a moment please… Continue reading Give me a moment please
ख़्वाब आपका
कल रात-भर आपके ख़याल ने हमें न छोड़ा कितना हसीन वह ख़्वाब था जिसे भोर हमने आँसुओं में बहाके तोड़ा क्या कशिश थी क्या चुभन थी क्या तड़पन थी प्यार की वह थी एक शब-ए-जन्नत, जो हमारी मिलन की रात थी पर देख हमें ख़्वाबीदा जो आपने अपना रुख मोड़ा तभी वह रात विदा… Continue reading ख़्वाब आपका
The Language of Love
Of all the life’s experiences the most profound one we have, is that of love. Very little needs to be said about what love is to humans, that bittersweet drug, that most of us get a taste of at least once in our lives.
They and their pain
And they start to fall, into this emptiness within, faster with every second, like gravity, their pain pulls them in...
The kingdom of dead things
Our fidelity to things long dead, our resistance to what is new, our futile attempts to keep carcasses alive and suck life out of that which grew
The harmony of being
I was meant to be a poem, instead I grew wings...
