Violence

 

I have not violated

The rules of this world

I have not given in to vices

I have not been infidel to morals

I have not belonged to the black hole of misdeeds

I am one of those ordinary earthlings

Who live in a rut of

Breathing in and out

With such boring regularity

That it almost sucks

But I have often thought of 

Bloodying my hands

Kick out the guts of bullies

Knock out the brains of sinners

Punch hard the noses of the law breakers

Give a black eye who does not see reason

Drill logic with a hammer into the clog holes of  conceited ones

Suck out the breath out of those death eaters who soil the beauty

Of this lonely planet

I have fought with myself 

Reasoned

Not to give in to these thoughts

Yet....

I have a demeanor of  child like submission

When I look at myself in the mirror

Is it me?

Or someone else?

I wonder...

Waking Up

Often

I ask God

why He denied

me a moment 

of silence 

staring at the sky

with clouds floating by

a bird streaking past

the leaves dancing to

a spell of His magic wand

was I that impure?

were my vices so deep?

disallowing censure?

that He left me just

with a pinhole of a window

where even a dream 

can't breath in the

breeze of His own choice?

more often than not

with a patient smile

He tells his child

I am the Santa, y' know

you chose to deny

the pillow underneath which

I could have slithered in

the key to your fistful of sky

your yarn of cotton clouds

that soaring delight

of a bird's flight

the dance of leaves

to the song of silence

as you were too busy 

my child engrossed

in your din of thoughts so wild

and missed that moment

when dreams come true

in rainbow hues

so close to your pinhole yews

Dreams

 

Nowadays I wake up

Without remembering my dreams

I let them pass

They were just dreams ...you know

But still I crave those moments

Of fancy

Of madness

Of joy

Of revelry

If only I could recall a wee bit

If only I could sleep

All night

आजकल सुबह जगती हूँ तो 

सपनें याद नहीं आते 

मैं भी जाने देती हूँ 

सपनें ही तो थे बस    पता है न 

पर फिर भी न जाने क्यों 

उन लम्हों को तरस जाती हूँ 

वो कल्पनाएं 

वो पागलपन 

वो ख़ुशी 

वो बेबाकपन 

काश मुझे याद रहते इतना सा भी 

काश मैं सो सकती रात भर 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYdZNyA8Zwg

Pic from Google

एहसास

खरोंच हल्की 
या ज़खम  गहरा
चोट तो है  न ?

ख़ामोशी से या
मुस्का के सहलाओ
दर्द तो है न ?

जीये नहीं  ..अभी कहाँ

साँसों  में वो  

तड़पन तो है न ?

धुआं है .. लकीरें सारी 

अंगारों में 

ठिठुरन  तो हैं न  ?

ख्वाबों को रौंद चला 

पलकों तले 

चुभन तो है न ?

वक़्त अभी - थोड़ी बाकी 

धड़कनों में 

सुलगन तो है न ?

खरोंच हल्की 
या ज़खम  गहरा
चोट तो है  न ?

ख़ामोशी से या
मुस्का के सहलाओ
दर्द तो है न ?

The Half Eaten Cake

 

Early morning...

Pulling away the curtains

I let the sun stream in

"Good Morning" I say cheerfully

"Morning" Replies Mom drowsily

"Happy Birthday"

She repeats after me "Happy Birthday"

I ask her, "Whose Birthday it is , Maa?"

"Don't know..." She says dreamily

"Yours", I croon into her ears softly

In the evening...

Sister brings the cake

"Happy Birthday Maa"

Creamed on it

We make her sit on the bed

and tell her to cut it

She tries to wound her gnarled fingers

Round the plastic knife but fails

We hold her hand and knife out a piece

Singing "Happy Long Life To You..."

She looks around with wide vacant eyes and

Repeats "Appy  Long Life..."

Her lids droop....we place her head gently

on the pillow....she snores softly

In the Hall...

We all gather

With a piece of cake in hand

We celebrate her wrinkled memory

Her fading smile

Her half knowing glances

Her garbled song

And pretend to be merry

A bit musty though...

My mother is a Dementia patient since 2016

This poem is shared with Poets and Storytellers United