Perspective

Perspective

Crowded bus;

Heads, first turning towards the trapped sky,

In search of air,

Then turn towards the ground,

Beyond the reach of sweats,

Eyes take them to the cars.

A car owner, inside fresh cool air,

Thinks of the monthly instalment traps,

On his left, a hearse passes by,

A flowered body with crying relatives;

His eyes on the right see an ambulance

Carrying a dying patient,

He thinks of anyhow

Coming back to life,

For then he will change his world.

17 October 2014

Doctors and engineers of poetry

Doctors and engineers of poetry

Hey you doctors and engineers of a breed,
Write what you want that your heart has to read.
Amuse yourselves rogues with the cut-paste rules,
With doctrines little dull that stare like the fools.
Your rules are so fixed that they cannot even limp,
You are covered with self you hired little pimp.
Poetry is not this? It is never ever that?
You must be married to a sick and meek brat!

It is here right with us, they’re unequal and same,
They sing and they cry, with or without shame.
Feeling that’s shy, yet brave on the go,
That’s just a little hint, you pseudo intello.
In verses that run without and within,
They’d better make some sense for your borrowed little grin.
Your eyebrows would rise to discard the game!
For you’d want to rule, with your willy-nilly name!

Listen up you there, you knotty dotty dud,
Let us also stay in our cosy little thud,
You go ahead and rot where your sickness would fly,
Liars that we are, we’d seldom comply.
Go wherever you want, with your breasts and your chests,
Our lines are not marked, unlike you and the rest.
You protectors of poems, you’re here to stink and rust,
We’d write about the nothings, we'd lick the brownie dust.

Now look at this here, just look at what I’ve done!
A set of rules so dry we’d throw and overrun!

16 October 2014

Doha

State of work

Everyone is working, laughing, playing

Boss, not proud, but worried about the job

Voice

Whenever the energy bundle’s voice rings

It sounds like a child, always, why

Yes, you are right

God is angry, revengeful; up in his arms to see you unsuccessful

Oh! Let me drink my coffee! Please?

Success

We are successful. Wars belong to the museums now.

Borders are protected from by the neighbours.

Personal

I kiss my lady. Onlookers pelt stones.

I burn her to death. Onlookers smell a personal choice.

Doha [normally in Hindi and Urdu], is a couplet with 24 instants (Matras) [13+11]. The rules for distinguishing light and heavy syllables are different in Sanskrit; In the Doha [English] I am trying to write, more than the rules, the message is important; couplet form is the only rule followed here. This is because, I am not a man of strict rules, I like rules when they function as banks of a river to mobilise its flow, nothing more and nothing less. Anybody can come and join in the river of Doha!

Pardon-garden

Pardon-garden

In the zone of icy thoughts,

Gatecrashers trying to break the berg,

In the game, they are swallowed in

Like the quicksand.

Mediocre thoughts of reactions,

Dominate the insipid mind.

Through the ages,

Blindness looks at the white shivering mirror,

How horrid that the word comes from the pen,

Forgiveness!

But yes, it is also forgiven,

You are a thirteen-year old,

Playing the role of a hero,

Without your muscles of sadness;

Flowers and fruits are hatching in the space,

Birds and bees are preparing to play,

Audience is horrified to see you kiss

A lady’s fun-balls,

So inappropriately out of place.

But like the spectators,

Swallow the word,

And the frozen waters, as you break open the gate.

You will also find your way

Into the overwhelming pardon-garden!

14 October 2014

sky

sky

I must have a place.

Somewhere!

For here, I have lost the sky.

Doors shut.

Windows closed.

I am not looking for light.

The indomitable, unstoppable

Light

Effortlessly pierces through the holes,

Like water

I stop my breath.

Yet through other holes life enters.

In these little streaks of leftovers,

Water that I cannot see, but hear

Moon is dead, Sun dying

Air floating,

Light is not enough to form my shadow.

I had a table where I read and wrote,

It has gone into the woods.

I am in a room, with no ceiling

Without a floor, with colourless air

That I figure as my sky.

13 October 2014

Oh mouse!

                                                                    Oh mouse!

Mouse stopped working.

Cursor is playing hide and seek

Sad-happy thoughts roaring away

In this game, the world stops.

Page has a blank look.
08 October 2014

I am his pet

I am his pet

Come! Bring the leash, quick!

Handle it properly I am taking you out!

Sorry? Who’s taking whom!

That’s for the world to know, huh?

I really pity you,

With all the running around,

You have to do!

Look! You told me not to pee here!

You will scream now, there you go!!!

Simba! Simba! Not here! You!

Please don’t embarrass me!

And then

To creatures like you,

Sorry! Extremely sorry for this!

Of all the fun I have, this I never miss!

To you I have nothing to say,

With our foreheads kissing, you’d say!

And then, to the muck, to the drains

So much work to do, can’t you see!!

Dust waiting to be kicked,

All other poop talking to me, staring to be licked,

No Simba! No, don’t, this I told you not to do

Oho ho, you think I have this tongue only for you?

One hour!! Just for one hour let me be free

My tongues are tired of chapatti and pedigree

I litter, you clean the dirt

You wait patiently when with friends I flirt

I poop, you flush

From you, I have a lovely wash

I puke, on the couch, in the bed, and you clean

I growl at you, bite you, but you say nothing?

You never take me to a show to win a prize for fun

You know I’d fail for I limp when I run!
You couldn't train me for nuts I know that hey!

With me you’d do nothing other than run and play!

Are you consoling me because in life I always fail?

You don’t give a damn; huh you lick and wag your tail!

‘Why do you not judge, love me no matter what,

There’s no one like you’ here I borrow your words.

Now enough of brooding get up and start your day

I’d wait for you my pet, until you come and play!

Sit baitho

Sit baitho

Sit close quench your thirst
Baitho paas bujhhao apni pyaas
Consciousness changes you, your habits inert
Chetana badalti tumko, jadta ki ore aadaton ka prayaas

An experimental poem.

07 October2014

Between Vagueness and Precision

Between Vagueness and Precision

Vagueness

Vagueness! Come, come unto me!
For I differ loud and clear in what I hear and see!

Oh Intelligence

You have gone to the Stars, you sure need a clap!
Your Intelligence doesn't see the silent Power trap!
This world needs you most, your wit and acumen, 
Hundreds of crises for its men and women!

The giving

High-rise says to sunrise, you have to have some sense,
You need to shine more to those who deserve the most,
Sunrise says to High-rise, no harm, no offence,
Giving are those stars that do not judge and boast.

Respect

This year again, you paid respect to me.

I saw you through your pride that kept me way too far.

I am just as you, can’t you at all see?

Drop your pride in days, you’ll be my star!

Work like me in you, till the year that comes in next,

Through action and your deed, I need your love, respect.

Disrespect

This year again, you burnt me down as sin,

For years you’re doing the same!

I wonder what you do in between!

That I re-appear in the flame?

Revolt

Revolt! I have lost interest in you.
With no anger, you bid me adieu!
Now I am new and strong. I never knew
I could heal the scars within, resting but a few!

Precision

Precision! Go, go away!

For I unite in the haze, in the roles I play

05 October 2014

Cracking craft

Cracking craft

It’s freezing with dryness.

I have disappeared into the pathos of hollowness.

The Trojan War, conceived in an innocuous show-horse?

How about the wood, to think for a change!

How about the craft that took the pain?

How about the nails that still hold the pieces!

And looking at this mediocrity,

You will perhaps have something to say!

Your words are hammered to limp in plastic gait.

You wooden showpiece,

Go back to the woods and take some breath,

Before you perish in the snowball game!

Yes I agree.

Everything needs to be understood.

02 October 2014