Tuesday, April 3, 2018

आशना

इतने दिनों की बातें,
ख़्वाबों से सजाया,
एक चेहरा,
हज़ारों एक ख़्वाहिशों,
से बंधी एक माला...
आज मुलाक़ात की घड़ी

यह सींचा चेहरा,
किसी और का ना हो,
कोई और ना हो,
कि बस एक मुख़्तसर मुलाक़ात हो

ऐसा भी ना हो,
कि मुलाक़ात में मसरुफ ऐसे कि
बेजा ओर बेसाबब
उल्फ़त का गुलशन बिछ जाए

डर लगता है मुझे ,
मुलाक़ातों से,
रंजिश है मुझे हक़ीक़त से,
क्या आशना की जुसतुज़ु काफ़ी है?

Sunday, April 1, 2018

Scars

As I stare across the window pane,
looking down ahead of the flights wings,
I saw scratches, on a full proof glass.

Scratches, disorderly, unorganised,
lines, dots, zig zags, bumps,
it was chaotic and disturbing 

The glorious skies,
somehow seemed cluttered,
it made me angry and uncomfortable 

Suddenly, in a brief moment,
the sun’s rays glistened,
one of them pepped from the puffy clouds.

It shone around the scratches,
highlighting, bordering,
caressing and engulfing.

The scratches formed a pattern,
a labyrinth of unknown,
a myriad of almost mystical designs 

The glass turned into a canvas, sparkling,
a message in the briefiest of moments,
scars are pretty, it said!




Marigold

I will let you in on a mystery, if you are for keeps Been harboring it for days, in my slience habitual denial and hurt held in heaps O...