a sere conviction !

a dawn

would splinter 

into a thousand skies

we, a pair of solitudes,

would sleep 

under a gray sun 

and a moon

would meander 

in the river of night 

with these fickle verses 

. .

chaand se 

churakar

ek nagma 

likha hai..

kal din ke 

ujaale me 

sunaunga tujhe

aur aaj raat bhar

ye abr dard me 

tadapta rahega 

wo chaand 

jo bezaar nikla

usse churakar 

ye nagma likha hai

tere liye

bas ek ummeed 

ke waaste

. .

teri likhi nazmon

ko dohraya fir aaj maine..

wo hawa me bane aashiyane tere 

khwabon ke baadlon se bheegte

sabz-o-baag tere

chaand aur jugnuon ki

baatein teri

mausamon se badalte sheher tere..

teri likhi nazmon ko

dohraya fir aaj maine..

(tumko maloom to hoga hi

ab bhi kabhi kabhi

padh leta hun

teri kitaab ke

un mude huye panno ko.. )

. . 

is bahaar me

wo shazar

sookha hi reh gaya..

shayad koi

saari jadein

chori kar ke le gaya hai..

. .

Those pariah words
that I counted on my
finger tips . .

Pray! What shall I be in my next birth !

Lo! The clouds have devoured the moon.
What shall the oceans have now?

'the constellations in your hands ..'

the several moons
of our last randez-vous
haven't yet faded
in my irises ..

the smile of
your eyes
lingers on the brim
of the tea mug
that kissed
your lips ..

and the fragrances
of your words
still salivates in my mouth . .
feeling the warmth
of your tongue

the several suns
across your balcony
and those intoxicated bees
hovering at your window..

that night
which blended
into a mirthful morrow,
I remember,
several constellations
in your hands..
of them, one satelite,
me, was aglow
on the terrace
of your city..


..

It's a beautiful day here..
a blue sky with a magnificent sun,
sparkled with clouds dispersing into winds.
O, look there, few clouds seems cascaded
like staircases
and from here, looking through this window,
i only wish you could
descend through those
and come to me..

O baby, come, alight onto me..

Winter !

and in this desolate night
walking through this lane
passing near to a desolate tree
devoid of leaves
and the branches crowded with
now silenced, shivering, wetted crows..

.. on this downward slopy path,
as I am wandering,
thinking about you, and
the fog that never settled
in your eyes
and the sun that never
dawned on your lips..

O, there comes a rain !