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 

The Intruder

The boy popped up

Like a Jack-in-a-box

His gaze unwavering

Face masked

Shabbily attired

A thick bamboo stick

Lay reclined by his side

He sat on the boundary wall

of the Park

Not very far from the entrance of my flat

I had a tinge of doubt

What was he there for?

Plonked up like that?

He gesticulated to me

Which I failed to figure

Did he want some food?

Or sitting there to have some of his own?

I told Auntie to keep an eye on him

Something about him was not quite natural

When I returned after a few minutes

He was still there unmoved

I said,"Seen these strays

They will prey on you..."

This time he held a peeled banana aloft

And took a bite leisurely

His gaze still straight towards my balcony

Aunt said she had already warned him

About Babu, Neelu, Tuk Tuk and Sam

What about our Rinky (my pet)? The great gun

He neither seemed scared nor impressed

Carried on munching his biscuits and bread

Having no plan to budge an inch

Under the spell of suspicion

I called the guard 

Told him to ward off

The uninvited guest (or trespasser?)

Guard asked, "From where have you come lad?"

The boy's reply was not audible

At least he was not dumb as he pretended

The conversation ended

With the guard having succeeded 

To push him off   (not without reluctance)

The boy hobbled off

But Rinky made it worse

And wanted to pee at that very moment

I hesitated at the gate

Perhaps I will meet the strange boy again

Outside in the service lane

But when I looked around 

He was nowhere to be found 

The next day...

I called upon my shrink

"I am having nightmares

That boy and his passive stares...."

Shrink said, "He is past....you move on

There is lots to life than baseless fear

Have no worry...take a chill pill...put on some music

and groove on..."

Snippets - I

 this sudden urge

          to be dead

by dawn

I check my nominees

once more 

...

jostling

inside the Metro

for an inch of space

a sudden surge of freedom

whelms over

no one knows

who I am

...

waiting...

at the bus stop

I wonder

how many it takes 

to make a crowd

how many less

to make you lonely

...

I bump into 

a blushing rose bush

a greeting stray mongrel

a smiling passer by

funny! I had taken

the wrong turn

...

temple bells

I leave behind

my worn chappal

and take along

frayed memories

too heavy to part

too many to stack

These micro poems were also published in Muse India e-Journal 

वो सांवली सी लड़की

वो सांवली सी लड़की
मेरे पड़ोस की नहीं
पर मैंने उसे देखा है
कई मर्तबा खुद को
निहारते  हुए आईने में
पलकों के पगडंडियों को
काजल से पोत कर
सपनों पे और रंग चढ़ाया है जैसे
होठों पे हंसी टिका कर
अनगिनत सवालों का जवाब माँगा है
गालों पे महीन से झुर्रियों की तरकश से 
पर फिर भी उसने सदियाँ लगा दी
खुद को सजाने संजोने में

और मैं यहाँ वक़्त के नोकीले काँटों
से चुभ कर एक लम्हा ढूंढ़ती फिरती हूँ
अपना चेहरा भीड़ में खोजने के लिए