THE FIRE

                                                       I burn a fire in a brazier,

                                                   To keep at bay the cool air,

                                       Suffocation, dullness of the atmosphere,

                                         And to add into my life light and color.

                                          The cracking and burning of the firewood,

                                      Is producing a sweet hissing and tickling sound,

                                      That makes my breath move faster, budge hazy,

                                     Drives me insane, makes me intoxicating drowsy.

                                               The warm air emitting out of it,

                                         Is creating a undulation inside my heart,

                                           I am feeling my image did disappear,

                                In the smokes and possessive character of the fire.

                                            The flames of the flamboyant fire,

                                 Is encroaching into my heavily guarded barrier,

                                  Threatening to swallow my vows, entity, ethics,

                           I hesitatingly protest and willingly surrender to its tricks. 

                                         My cheeks get scarlet with my titter,

                            Bosom vibrates because of the charm as well as fear,

                                  I whisper or one can say confess in seclusion,

                     To myself that I am lost in love of the one who has born to burn.

मासूम परिंदा

कब तक रोएगा मन को मार कर,
हकीक़त से भाग कर, खयालों में जी कर,
एक बार अपने घोंसले से छलांग लगा कर तो देख।

खुदा ने तुझे ही क्यूं पंछी बनाया,
खुले आसमान मैं उड़ने कि काबिल बनाया,
एक बार अपने हुनर को आजमा कर  तो देख। 

मत कर किसी और पर भरोसा,
तू अनुपम है, कोई नहीं है तेरे जैसा,
एक बार खुद को "हाँ " बोल कर तो देख। 

कब तक इस डर से बैठे रहोगे,
कि गिर जाओगे,मर जाओगे, लोग हसेंगे ताने कसेंगे,
एक बार डर क़ो पछाड़ कर तो देख। 

दुनिया की ये रीत है, डर के आगे जीत है,
फिर तू क्यूं इतना भयभीत है,
एक बार उड़ने की हिम्मत कर के तो देख। 

जो डर गया उसे तू मर गया मान,
मुर्दों का कैसा अरमान? कौन सी उड़ान?    
एक बार जिंदादिल बन कर तो देख।

वो देखो अम्बर में उड़ते परिंदे,
वे भी तो कभी थे तुझसे छोटे बंदे,
एक बार तू भी आसमान पर हक़ जताकर तो देख। 

आंख खुली तो रोशनी है, चल पड़े तो रास्ते है,
सारी धरती, सारे आसमान तेरे वास्ते हें,
एक बार मंजिल की ओर कदम बढाकर तो देख।   

Theory of convenience

            Oh God! Stay confined to the luminous walls of your home ever,

                   Temple, Mosque, Church, Gurudwar or whatsoever.

                      Forget me I do not want your interference or heed,

                     You feel free, indifferent there inside and me outside.

                       Unlimited and infinite now-a-days are my abilities,

                   Hence, I want liberty from your control, your authorities.

                        At will I reproduce, impose on others even death,

                          Without your wish, assistance, mercy or wrath.

               Science has enriched, enabled me with much sophistication,

                      To live comfortably, with command and authorizations.

            To be very frank in true sense I do not trust your manifestation,

              That’s why I live carefree and kill people without hesitation.

           I love my kids so dearly that I can’t tolerate a pin pinching their skin,

       But shot other’s children dead; behead them who trust in other religion.

             I administrate fellow beings with discrimination, segregation,

            To enjoy by any means, at whim money, power and position.

            Sinking in wine, sex and merry making is what life meant for me.

             Its a contrary way to your principles, but I don’t really care thee.  

          Evildoer, messiah, hell-heaven are outdated words in my dictionary,

           Virtue and vice are meaningless terms for me, hence I act arbitrary.

          Not you, People like me wrote those holy books, their guidelines,

      Hence, I analyze them as per my convenience, the way they suit mine.

                                                                                                                                                                                     Oh god! I am not truly bothering of you and your means,

                 So do not bother me, stay contended with my offerings.

              Do not see what rubbish I do with my fellow human beings,

         The earth is my jurisdiction; do not expect here heaven like things.

                 Until I am in power, possession, position and procession,

        Until I meet a natural calamity, beyond my control a grave situation.

            Until I face an incurable disease or debacles of growing old,

      I do not honestly pray you, desire your interference or seek your aid.

I AM YOURS

I do not think I should scream to prove that you are mine,

You just need to open your mind’s eye and see the signs.

All my uncontrollable winds of thoughts move in your direction,

The river of my emotions marches into your pleasure’s ocean.

I sink down and go up in tides and waves of your grief and laughter,

My tears and smiles are at tandem with that of yours.

My days break and nights drop their curtains with that of yours.

Hunger, thirst, nap and wake synchronize as per your hours.

Your wise and generous words make my enthusiasm of writing back on track,

When it derails with the negativity punches of enviers and their drivel act.

Your penmanship evokes, explores and nurtures my inherent writing nature,

And my rhymes rhythm minutely and honestly with yours in fabulous flavor.

My black and white creations turned to be a “spectrum of rainbow,”

Taking colors from your pixel, your splendid and magical shows.

Are these not enough substantive and poignant testimony to my aver?

That I am yours, only yours and vice versa or you want more?

IN BETWEEN

A vagabond cloud undesirably reign all over the sky from the dawn,

The rainy day shatters all regular activities of the earth and her Sun.

The hubbub, laughter, music, magic of the earth-life drown

Under the discordant, inharmonious and boring insolence of the rain.

The poor earth that stays ecstatic basking under the nectar of the sweet sun-ray,

 Is sitting still, silent, sad, helpless spreading her blank gaze into the sky.

How can she make the cloud to move out of the way between them?

How she can convince him that the pure, perennial sunlight is her rhythm?

How can she explain that her greenery, smile all are generous gifts of his light?

It seems intolerable for her to pass time without his adorable and gracious sight.

She cannot ignore or deny the significance of the water delivered by the cloud,

Physical though, petty though she knows it is essential, inevitable and desired.

Both the sun and the earth knows that the cloud is an interim visitor,

And he rules authoritatively because of his physical proximity to her.

In a day his repository of water will dry up and he will move away from the sky,

Paving way for their romance, exchange of hearts all along the coming days

Though the day of sorrow seems fatally painful, harassingly unending and long,

But it’s really not so, as both of them continue to peek all day at every opening.

After all the magnet of love, the charm of belongingness, the gravitational force of emotions,

Are more powerful, rampant, and indomitable than physical existence, material relations. 

WOMEN

 We all are women, you, me, he she and they all of us,

 Like floras and faunas, mountains and rivers,

 The moon, the sun, the whole universe,

 Except some structural difference, biological variation,

 We are all part of the nature, His feminine creation.

 Unwrap the cover of this biological portion, this structural variation,

 Which is subject to childhood, youth, old age and decay,

 Which is subject to happiness, sorrow, greed, jealousy, anger,

 The same soul will come out naked in all of us.

  Identify it with gender, caste, color, nation, religion,

  Is it confined to any? Certainly not, no structure, no texture.

  

  The only male is the creator, Krishna who inserted soul in the nature,

  Who created a woman through another woman.

  Lo behold do you think I am propagating an ism?

  No, not all I am no fool to make difference in souls,

  I am no ignorant to see a difference in their beliefs, worships,

  They are fit and fine there wherever and however they are.

  

   Religions, cults, beliefs are like rivers reaching ocean,

  The ocean named supreme soul, Paramatma, God, Allah, 

  Name Him as you wish, worship Him as you please,

   Sail your way through any river, as you like,

   No silly conflict about it, no beastly fight about it,

  You will reach the ocean one day and will meet all women there,

   More significantly, you will see the master there,

  In His harem, the harem of souls, all women, that's the truth.

 Accepting the facts that He is your ultimate destination, only love,

  Why not to love Him now, on your way through to Him?

Love Him like you love your beloved, with all your heart.

Thorn

I intended to hand you over a rose,
Believe me, I don't know how a thorn pierced into your heart.