Emergence From Void

 Words, lines, ideas, 

luring me from afar,

I follow their path, only to be abandoned

as they scatter, fade away, erasing their trace.

Alas, what could have been a sonnet, a tale that

was sung for eons to reverberate,

now just seems a teasing smoke, exhaled 

by my cold deluding despair,

reminding me of that fog of nicotine 

from her ruthless seducing, crimson coated buds.

And now reprimanded by my frowny grin

for I was lost in this void, before this deluding pursuit

and after chasing this mirage, I only seem to sink

lower in this abyss,

fretfully now my shelter,

hopefully for a brief time period, though

thankfully was I enveloped by this,

for this pursuit of applause fatigued me

of their inattentive formal claps,

also their desires which had echoed, only

come from my screaming lust.

These tidal waves of cacophony,

had only washed me away,

From what I deeply wanted to be, only to be banished

to this dark, desolate desert of deafening silence.

tis possible I was to remain here, till

I rest rejuvenate and realize,

Devious and clueless, is this course of destiny,

for even here, I'm not me

and beyond this dimension what lays, may

not be for me...

and yet I resolve to resurrect, 

breaking this caging casket

still I choose to tread ,with words

inserted like thread, 

in a needle of rhythm,

crawling across this fabric of mind,

this canvas of my voice,

emerging as this protrusion,

for them to see, what I show

in this tapestry, perhaps as they see, seek too

I will, who I am, may be some of this

or of it all.

Brewing in a Cafe.....

Amidst the reverberating recollection of stories,

around the fleeting whispers of gossip,

Of those who indulge in the above,

as they do too

with sips of their hot brew in devotion..

Find me you shall, seated and secluded....

As I to my shame, without their permission...

Make them the ingredients of my mind's decoction...

Couples that seek shelter, away from eyes that pry...

And then are the ones that brazenly revel...

never in your dreams, you assume they cry..

both falling prey to my vision voyeuristic..

as I steal a little of their sugar,

as required alone, lest become too optimistic

Seated I am perfectly in the middle...

two worlds of different flavors I straddle....

for one is where people are lost in moments..

In the other however, exists a desire and urge 

to let..in the metaverse their moments be seen..

grind them and blend them with your prejudice and perspective

and voila, prepared, is your social caffeine...

The strands that betray their buns and braids...

the drops hanging from her lobes, 

those curve concealing robes...

found in one of her wardrobes, after not sure how many raids..

coercing my eyes to become my resolution's traitor..

letting me drop in my desire's crater...

hence let this farce be poured as milk ,in my mind's boil...

where the sugar and caffeine already duel, 

acting as their perfect foil..

This brew that began when the sun was past its rise..

Is now proudly prepared for its final consumption...

while that sun drowns beyond the indictive horizon..

Across the pane too those leaves, oft seen by my eyes..

Seldom noticed by my ephemeral muses that have come and gone

Now stand masked by my lone, observant reflection..

Stripped

 My Mind that wove like a loom,

Using the yarns of perspective and prejudice;

Fabrics meant to protect and reflect me,

dismantles itself to begin a long required revolt,

against its delusion of being an apathetic apparatus

to break my illusion against the fabrics meant to reflect me

for they in reality from my truth do deflect me.

For these garments are but the products;

of crops grown from the seeds of hate,

which later formed its roots in my once broken heart,

sheared from the skins of regrets and guilts of past.

grazing on the pastures of my present, rendering it barren.

The realized mind now breaks this trance, piercing fabrics

of these shrouds under which lays my soul.

for the mind wishes to inspire this soul that's perspired,

to have now, just this desire;

to come out of the tatters,

and not cling on to the obsolete,

to find that spark within so illuminating

which would blinden the initial stares of stigma

to let my scars be bejeweled with the strings of pride

to be scented with hope which will cleanse,

the long stayed stinking sweat of despair

to attract the sights of amors and empaths alike

resplendent of warmth which will pervade

the blinding fog of indifference

to see the one devoid of illusion, denial and pretense

that is me, Naked, Disrobed, Stripped

Husn ka Zikr...

Uske husn ka zikr jab bhi mere zehen ne Kiya hai..

Dil se yahi ilteja nikli hai ki dil bhar ke uska deedaar karun..

Iss ke Alava na usko lekar aur koi tamanna ki zindagi mein..

Aur Na hi usse paane ki justajoo mein raha,  na uski tishnagi mein..

Bebaaki se toh mann hi dekhta raha hai.. 

Yeh gustaakhi mere nazron ki nahi..

Ki sharam se jhuk jaate hain sajde ki Tarah.. 

Kyon ki Yeh darr hai unhe Har baar sataata raha..

Ki uske paak husn ka daaman kabhi..

Daagdaar na ho.. meri napaak khwahishon se...

उसके हुस्न का जिक्र जब भी मेरे जहन ने किया है

दिल से यही इलतजा निकली है कि दिल भर के उसका दीदार करूं 

इसके अलावा न उसको लेकर और कोई तमन्ना की जिन्दगी में 

और न ही उसे पाने की जुस्तजू में रहा, न उसकी तिश्नगी में

बेबाकी से तो मन ही देखता रहा है

ये गुस्तखी मेरे नज़रो की नहीं 

कि शरम से झुक जाते हैं सज्दे की तरह

क्यूं कि ये डर है उन्हे हर बार सताता रहा 

कि उसके पाक हुस्न का दामन कभी,

दागदार न हो, मेरी नापाक ख्वाहिशों से।

  

The Miser /rich heart...ये मुफ़लिस/रईस दिल

Yeh dil ke maamle bhi kitne ajeeb hain..

Karne ko toh yeh ishq ki daulat ko khairaat mein luta de apni raeesi mein

Par agar kaamil ishq ka muavza na mile...

Toh chahe kitni hi beshumaar mohabbat se bhari ho iski tijori..

Yeh insaan ki ragon mein dauda hi deta hai..

Muflisi ke khayal...

ये दिल के मामले भी कितने अजीब हैं। 

करने को तो ये इश्क की दौलत को खैरात में लुटा दे अपनी रईसी में ,

पर अगर कामिल इश्क का मुआवजा ना मिले ,

तो चाहे कितनी ही बेशुमार मुहब्बत से भरी हो इसकी तिजोरी,

ये इन्सान के रगो में दौडा देता है ,

मुफ़लिसी के ख्याल।

The matters of the heart are but peculiar..

For it will, in its rich abundance,

Donate the wealth of love,

Yet if not compensated with requital of love.. 

No matter how filled it's coffer is with love...

It pumps in the veins of the human mind..

The Thoughts of impoverishment...

Sagar Kinare/सागर किनारे

Mere mann ko saahil bana.. 

Usse choom kar chali jaane waali

Yeh khayaalon ki lehrein kya jaane...

Ki uss veeraane ki pyaas..

Ab Na bujhegi chaand aur suraj se chamakne waali yadon se..

Aur Na mitegi namkeen zaayka dene waale bematlab ke Shor se..

Usse toh Talab hai nazmon ke unn motiyon ki ..

Jinhe piroh kar kalam ke dhaage se, saja dun main..

Uss geeli mitti se bana Mera aashiyaan..

Sagar Kinare....

मेरे मन को साहिल बना, 

उसे चूम कर चली जाने वाली,

ये ख्यालों की लहरें क्या जाने

कि उस वीराने की प्यास,

अब न बुझेगी चांद और सूरज से चमकने वाली यादों से

और न मिटेगी नमकीन जायका देने वाले बेमतलब के शोर से,

उसे तो तलब है नज़्मों के उन मोतियों की

जिन्हे पिरोकर कलम को धागे से, सजा दूं मैं 

उस गीली मिट्टी से बना, मेरा आशियाँ,

सागर किनारे।

Zabaanon ka Tarjuma

किसी की ज़बान का तर्जुमा किसी के नज़रिए का इस कदर मोहताज बन गया है, 

कि मुकम्मल नज़ारा अब तरस गया है, 

किसी के दीदार को । 

Kisi ki Zabaan ka tarjuma, kisi ke nazariye ka iss qadar mohtaaj ban Gaya hai,

Ki Mukammal nazaara ab taras gaya hai,

Kisi ke deedaar ko.

The interpretation of one's words, 

Is but dependent on another's perspective 

To the extent that the complete big picture,

Now yearns for an audience..