I know what’s hell, I live right there, It’s darkness, despair, depression everywhere. In heat of hatred and flames of bigotry I burn Where injustice and intolerance are all I discern Tall, dark, ugly shadows walk all over my mind, Looking around, graves, just fresh graves are all I find. Graves filled with quiet remains, [...]
In the emotional universe we inhabit. Each of us make our own weather, Paint our own rainbows of imagination Determine the color of our dreams Create our own seasons in the heart Control the temperatures of our mind Divert the direction of our life’s storms If I feel depressed I will sing. If I feel [...]
If I was a concorde, I would: Fly with the turbojet of myriad aspirations, And takeoff to the skies of fathomless imagination. With supersonic pace, soaring in blissful thoughts, Reaching to heights where no one could ever get caught, Into the tornadoes of bigotry, hate and intolerance, To an altitude beyond darkness of misery, chaos, [...]
Koi pooche kaun tha main, Tum keh dena koi khas nahin, Ek sach tha jhoota moota sa, Ek jhoot khatta meetha sa, Buss ek dost kacha pakka sa. Muhsay koi pooche kaun tha woh, Main keh doonga baat wohi, Ek gul tha taro taaza sa, Ek jhonka, thandi hawa ka, Buss ek mazaaq halka phulka [...]
Life ain’t a mere living, To wake, to sleep morning evening. Laden with struggle, sweat and strife. Tis’ not just to live, but to get a life. Life to a newborn… Is a warm embrace on mother’s chest. Life to a teenager… Is ‘fit in’ entree into a gang of friends. Life to an old [...]
Today I visited My true home A real place that is My permanent address The house that I shall Reside sooner or later A home that needs No furniture, no crockery A home where I shall crave No wardrobe, no accessories A home large enough To give rest and comfort Never felt in any castle. [...]
Moms weep, “My son, my son.” Hearts pierced with daggers of pain, Embracing sons, blood soaked uniforms adorn Dads moan,”My boy, my boy.” Tears dried up within their eyes, As they lay in graves their bundles of joy. Wives wail, “My man, my man.” Receiving hubbies in the caskets asleep, To a final journey, departing [...]
It is Summers and mango time. Mango is synonimous with Mirza Ghalib. And I am here after ages in the mango season in Delhi, the city of Ghalib. And then Amir Khusrau’s praise for mangoes is not secret either. His soul resides in Delhi too. How could one enjoy Ratols, Chausa, Dussehris in Delhi, consumed [...]
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