Magnet
It's been long since measuring waves in Physics class When I could easily send iron feathers afloat into the air Many springs later I find myself collecting sea shells again The naked, inebriated night is beckoning to get lost now Filling the glasses of your eyes little by little And the complex theory of science Is transforming into white pigeons And getting lost into the attraction of the infinite
Oasis
If ever in your journey of life You find some unknown, unrestrained dreams blocking your way Tell your eyes to keep them dazed in your intoxication Till the time your fire can wet them in creating life And you can tear away the contract deed into pieces and say " Here's my gift of Oasis to you Don't ever get lost in sand storms again "
The Enchantress
You can summon spring on earth at your will A doused match-stick too can give birth to a sun The long abandoned class struggle can resurface once again from a cigarette ashtray How many times does love need to burn to become immune to heartbreaks ? The nights passes away mercilessly pouring sorrows into glasses The desire of drinking the nectar of your physical grace and becoming immortal Has kept alive hundred thousands of poems waiting to become insects again
Unrealised Womanhood
If you believe I can dedicate a night to the lonely rivers When the jingling of your voice would enrich the moonlight My emotions are waiting for a volcano to strip Caged in the serpentine embrace of your breaths Can the reverberations of a rainless, scorched existence Inspire a pair of sensitive minds abruptly withdrawn from mingling into a sea of happiness ? Can motherhood set free the debt of chastity nurturing in your womb through centuries And give recognition to the unrealised womanhood ?
Balance
Balanced on the brink of social denouncement our terminal desires are walking a tightrope Whereas fireflies could've easily lit up your flower garden at night Like a bee my mind is painting your body with the colours of gulmohar now Our lips are sucking in our weariness .. melancholy Our minds fascinated with lust are learning to maintain balance between our bodies Little by little our tainted selves are being stripped down to reveal our souls Though aware of a moment's carelessness to be death for sure Our dreams of dawn are kneeling down before the attraction of an obstinate kiss
If you meet suddenly
If a rainy afternoon suddenly meets an eighteen year old you one day Would you be ready to walk on knife edges again ? Will the sun draw a poem of fire lovingly on your forehead now ? Can a pair of doe eyes watch a wet heart - burn ? Once your forest could change into the spring's tresses and liquefy mount vesuvius Can the barricade of your full-grown braid be able to stop the bloodshed of a matured heart now ? Can your kisses wet lost human values once again ? Like you wet your house's courtyard with the auspicious rice-paste ? If you ever come across your eighteen year old self again Ask her if a river could become spring again ?
The Wait
The homeless emotions are waiting to watch a storm since long A cloudy night is waiting to rain down on your mind The petals of my untold stories scattered on your courtyard Are waiting to be picked up to colour the horizon Discovering your mind's new mode of music now doesn't make the Esraj's tune sad any more Even the love spilling out of your body and wetting your nights Are waiting for that dawn When you'll meet your lost self again
The Return
If you want you may return back Like the birds return to their nests at the end of the day Like the sudden weary and unresolved life craves to get back it's security Like the evening's love lifts the veil of teary - eyed night And caresses pillows and blankets with the moonlight of conjugal bliss You may return back keeping the beggar's glass empty The one who could've forgotten life's misery collecting intoxications of the Oasis Before getting extinguished forever can he burst into flame one last time ? Doesn'nt the pain you inflict to fulfill your whims of measuring emotions Flood your heart too everytime you engage in your cruel game ? You complain of your inability to read your mind forever But have you ever diffused the clouds around your heart with your mysticism ? Have you felt the differences in polarity which define man and woman ? Still if you won't stop trying to fathom the depth of sea with the waves at shore If you wish to ignore the magnetism of the blue horizon to blow conch-shell before the holy basil at sunset If you wish to return to your mirror searching for your lost image again you may go But please burn your pair of wings before you turn mortal again So that fairytales can never become true ever
The Deceiver
If you find yourself getting melted little by little In a puppet transformation factory If the wreaths of indifference and neglect of years Turn into marital chains and shackles, standing in the way of your freedom You'll be bound to pick up your smartphone one day " Hello, Anyone there beyond seven seas and thirteen rivers ? " " Can you help me take breath in open air ? " Your pent-up fire of lust need to ascend to it's peak in order to free the curse of chastity Spread your wings like a bird to the beckoning of the unspeakable Can the full moon's grace wet your lips now ? When the vesuvius gobbles up your motherhood ? A scarlet woman would seek the blue sky in her accustomed nudity of the night Your neck, breasts, navel, buttocks and vagina would be flooded with dead insects Once the wealth of your eyes could build a Tajmahal Familiar smell, familar touch, familiar hatred, familiar tears of happiness Which an enchantress could never pay the respect for The pride in your physical grace never fail to trample on the earth Which cracks into pieces trying to hold a river disloyal to her heart And you wipe off the sun's poem from your forehead shamelessly, without hesitancy To fill in the void of your hair-parting with the waning moonlight You put up empty glasses of loneliness filled with your inebriation for display To imprison unknown, unrestrained dreams of dawn with your fake promises The love which you beckoned only to paint your courtyard on fullmoon The love which never tired balancing on a tightrope The love which could've waited countless nights in hope of an oasis Today you have unknowingly undressed an eighteen year old incomplete, failed love The barricade of your braid can hardly give shelter to homeless emotions now Managing the dupatta of your traditionally worn saree from falling down on the altar of marital promises The jingles of a pair of running feet coloured in lac-dye Would be certainly stopped by a familiar encumbrance of security And the magic mirror would show the peeling off an angel's radiance to reveal an ugly, cruel deceiver
