Shayari 7

Mohabbat ko jo kaagaz mein bebuniyaadi kehte hain

Jinke vajah se mashooq aur aashiq khud par zamaane ke tohmat ko sehte hain..

Unhe kya pata ki sacche shayar toh woh  hote hain..

Jo kudrat-e-kaarigar ki sohbat mein rehte hain..

मोहब्बत को जो मेहफिल में बेबुनियादी केहते हैं 

जिनकी वजह से माशूक़ और आशिक खुद पर लगे तोहमत को सहते हैं 

उन्हे क्या पता कि सच्चे शायर तो वो होते हैं 

जो कुदरत-ए-कारीगर की सोहबत में रहते हैं 

The Chosen one's Choices

The cosmic prophecies, the legends that foretell

speak of a one who would complete an arduous task,

the ripples of which will be felt by the universe,

as that one swims in the ocean of elysium

judgmental indeed is the common wealth

imagining a hercules for a task herculean

but for an adversity like goliath

a david comes but from the crowd..

the one who is a commoner,

humbled, mocked may be even bullied,

yet that one takes it all in stride

for the heart is the one's strongest muscle..

the past makes the one oppose

the voices of the cosmic conspiracies,

making it vulnerable to the dark side

which seduces it to merge in the tempting abyss

the adverse is nothing but a malicious reflection

of its own naive being the one concurs

for the present then becomes its anchor

guiding and holding it amidst these tides..

this choice of the chosen one,

is the one made by oneself indeed

but its love friendship and grit that are 

blessed to the one by the cosmos  

for now the tide has rested 

and the future is at the shore

the mediocre revel and are grateful

as that one still humble swims in elysium 

Who's the Master, Who's the slave

He cuffs her above her head

and has her blindfolded too

to let her anticipate the pain that will come

to make her implore for the pain she yearns

for then can she unwrap the pain

to relish the pleasure coated inside

while he too savours her moans and screams

getting high in this feel of power

the power of domination that actually

is given to him by her submission

without which his fire will never be doused

which she brings it out for her to arouse

so who is the master and who is the slave..

She has a collar tied to his neck

the bitch has now made him her pooch

tied him to a leash she has 

but she is the one gone wild 

as she is hungry to feel powerful

as they call it, the Alpha..

hence she makes him cater 

to her need of loyalty

which he does willingly

as he kneels waiting for 

the mistress to pull him to her

thus he satisfies her hunger

but he too enjoys being fed on

as long as his hunger 

to see her wild and hungry is satiated

making him want her more

for without his pretentious obedience

who could she gag

who could she whip..

so who is the master and who is the slave..

for she "let him" tie and blind her

she "let him" give her pain for her pleasure

he too "let her" tie and leash him

to let her take charge of his inner kinks

this pondering thus blurs the lines 

bewildering the definition, derived from vision..

for domination is allowed only by submission...

for consent is the master of which we ought to be the slaves..

shayari 6

Mohabbat ki zindagi mein humari itni khalish thi..

Ki bhar diya khud ko aagosh mein uski

Jismein mehez ek khokhli si kashish thi

मोहब्बत की जिन्दगी में हमारी इतनी खलिश थी

कि भर दिया खुद को आगोश में उसकी

जिसमें मेहेज़ एक खोखली सी कशिश थी।

shayari 5

Yun toh shammein hazaar jal jaati hai mehfil mein,

humaare fun ka deedar karne ke liye

ek kasak si bas reh jaati hai humaare dil mein

jise talab hai toh bas ek chingaari ki

jo baha de dil mein woh dariyaa aag ka

jise log mohabbat kehte hain

यूँ तो शम्मे हजार जल जाती हैं मेहफिल में 

हमारे फन का दीदार करने के लिए 

एक कसक सी बस रेह जाती है हमारे दिल में 

जिसे तलब है तो बस एक चिंगारी की

जो बहा दे दिल में वो आग का दरिया 

जिसे लोग मोहब्बत केहते हैं 

The Journey So far...

Followed the convention of writing after a heartbreak,

which is a recommended path to introspect, to contemplate.

It guided me to a garden of fresh perspectives,

as I was getting lured i had an inkling

that the world will never be the same again.

with a simple understanding and a humble vocabulary

weaved a tapestry of words that furnished my mind,

knitted by experience and embroidered by empathy,

making my mind an abode that's lavish,

and also a shelter that's humble and giving.

what started as a hobby evolved into passion,

the anecdotes and lengthy discourses also were too kind,

to provide shelter and space as my mind fathomed twice,

once to find a thought attractive yet elusive, 

then in the quest of words magical,

that rhymed assuring its allegiance.

My mind then expanded its mouth

giving shelter to another tongue,

whose style was as charming as those noble aristocrats

yet so innocent like an infant that's felt a nerve.

when making words sound similar felt binding,

the mind broke free to find a rhythm 

making words discover a beat of their own,

assuring the sanctity of music in literature.

The initial purpose was to pour my heart out,

and now to reach out has become its purpose eventual,

I found solidarity in painting my mind's canvas,

a picture so unique yet so familiar,

but now surrounded by embellished minds

In awe yet envious my mind is,

yet looking to learn, looking to delve deep,

to fathom with my mind and share with my ink

hence this realization dawns upon me

that the world will never be the same again.

 

kalaam-e-khayaal..

Tanhaai mein jab karna chahte the bayaan haal-e-dil ka 

Tab shabd bhi saaki bankar kaagaz ka paimaana bharte the nazmon ki Sharaab se..

Aur aaj jab mehfil mein kuch pesh karne ki ilteja ki hai zamaane ne..

Tab bhare darbaar mein bepardah na karne ki

Aati hai ilteja 

Mere tassavur ki Shabaab se..

तन्हाई में जब करना चाहते थे बयान हाल-ए-दिल का

तब शब्द भी साकी बनकर कागज का पैमाना भरते थे,

नज्मों की शराब से

और आज जब मेहफिल में कुछ पेश करने की इल्तिजा की है जमाने ने

तब भरे दरबार में बेपर्दा ना करने की आती है इल्तिजा, 

मेरे तसव्वुर की शबाब से।

Meri shayari ka ek hi raaz hai..

Ki mera mijaaz hi mera andaaz hai..

Ishq mein Jeena marna toh aadat hai humari 

Ki mera dil hi mera libaas hai..

मेरी शायरी का एक ही राज़ है 

कि मेरा मिज़ाज ही मेरा अंदाज़ है

इश्क में जीना-मरना तो आदत है हमारी 

कि मेरा दिल ही मेरा लिबास है ।

Dusron ka kalaam padhne mein itna mashroof huye..

Ki humari shayari humse rooth gayi..

Ek mashooq ki shikayat hai use ab..

Ki Humne jo khaayi thi kasam humse hi tooth gayi..

Ab manane ki koshish ki toh maalum hua ki shayari toh uska libaas tha....

Jiske bhes mein woh humari neend humara chain  humse loot gayi..

दूसरों का कलाम पढने में इतना मशरूफ हुए 

कि हमारी शायरी हमसे रूठ गई 

एक माशूक़ की शिकायत है उसे अब 

कि हमने जो खाई थी कसम वो हमसे ही टूट गई 

अब मनाने की कोशिश की तो मालूम हुआ कि शायरी तो उसका लिबास था

जिसके भेस में वो हमारी नींद, हमारा चैन हमसे लूट गई।