Skip to main content


Showing posts from August, 2013

Her Life

Red azure sky wanton her fresh spirits,
from already hollow circle that looms large,
dark beneath eyes guide into oblivion,
fresh spark shy to transcend up heights alternatively.

Reclusive soul tepidly crosses a line,
where its last prey seen left a jungle wolf,
reemerged reformed inkling among defenders,
without direction, nonchalantly revoked limits.

Both under moon and stars guiding phenomenally,
with distinct mildness and of provoked gushes,
takes her into a ride of heaven back home,
a different one, with head not high but balanced.


क्या हैं मन में मन ही जाने,
बात किये बिन क्या कोई पहचाने।

जाने कितने सपने बुनने बाले बुन लेते हैं,
और कहीं पलकें समेट लेती हैं सत्य।

कुछ समझ जाते हैं वक्त के नये मंजर,
कुछ चल पड़ते हैं उस डगर पर अकसर।

कह दे जो बात हर्ज क्या हैं,
पता लगने में अनिर्णीत की हद क्या हैं।

ख्याब आँखे देखे वो पूरा ना हो सके,
हर हाल में मुमकिन हैं जो व्यक्त करे।

Conversation with a Vegetable Vendor

My neighbor who is working with a social organization happen to accompany me to sabzi mandi on last Saturday. Her husband usually does this task but being out-of-station, she opted to accompany me. Naturally, she does not knew anything about prices and even seasonal vegetables. Cooking is just another activity for housewives but among professionals who choose different lifestyle, it comes with exotic and unseasonal happiness.

On the way, she consistently is asking me to guide her through the purchases and not leave her at any vegetable stand. It is my difficulty at this time because thinking about my budget, I often take some usual vegetables such as potatoes, onions and tomatoes from farmers sitting at the behind of the standing stalls which themselves are bit pricey. I am wondering at this time, how I will be able to convince her to buy from them as her husband would not have ever visited them. One thing about men is no arguments and ease of service. Women, however, l…

Make A Wish

She is gathering her articles to go for a weekend meet for first time tomorrow. She has just joined a blogging platform which calls for a blogger meet once or twice every month. As she is new, she decides to go in one so that she could mingle with other co-bloggers. Writing has been her passion. All the day at home, she could fill at least her diary with one of the anecdotes. It is not impossible for her to be a good blogger. The blogger meet is on the topic “Women rights” under which articles are invited for a renowned women rights’ organization, “Mithi.”

While this going on, she also became part of a group which subsequently resulted in friends’ request from co-bloggers, all women. Everyday, she could log on to Facebook to see the latest updates by them after her husband goes off to work. Her pen seems not so strong when it comes to putting latest statuses. Her friends are quick and witted. They talked about latest jewelry, fashion shows, relationships, queer topics re…


He secures International borders
setting never crossing  limit.


She blows air through pipe
ignites firewood, preparing morning meal.


Husband goes to office sometimes on meal without salt,
but happy with accompanying fruits and snacks.


Wife laments at home for forgetting adding salt,
shuffles whole day things to place.


Children grow up, every day new demand,
leave things haphazardly and behave much wisely.


Internet displays help forums, consistent
large data on new problems, leaving confused.

Untruth to Truth

Do not run on dry sands of dessert
hearsay spread slowly, there is a way to do it
these hot winds are revolution in seeking
which you would not be able to stand
from untruth to truth.

Do not seek forbearance in foreign
customs will set slowly, your soul is already ruptured
these rules will defeat your purpose
which unable you for salvation you seek
from untruth to truth.

Spreads in innumerable branches when you escape
from tentacles of ethics, while seeking
a nourishment of soul undecided it lays in shadows
of truth. Decide which way is good, sticking to roots
from untruth to truth.

Ceasefire Violation


A dwarf incarnation when covered whole universe
in three steps, Vamanadeva from Bali maharaja
unstimulated the need for selfish motives and desires.
Today we feed on fruits of non-violence
plucking from branches of tree called Mahatma Gandhi
in lack of whose wisdom Bharat was subdivided.
First incursions in Indian state ended up with 
loot wealth and prisoners of war, greed later
extended to lands and ruling power.

Today as principles are laid to fight
anarchism over democracy where
does Pakistan stop, not consider it a stoop.
Go away, khakis in greenish brown and beret cap
and show true worth of your valor
in saving lives of your people and living civilly.
If your guns are starting to get rust
devise some new games to entertain yourself
learning how to gauge between enemy and defensive
soldiers in emerald brown and guns in place.

Are you scared of mere a sight on borders
if not wall be raised, if raised
marks anguish by people who
have limited foresights and lack of horizon
gives them pain and feeling …

She is Back

Yes, she appeared like someone
I know for years, same gaiety
resonated through her, her ear danglers.

As she floated her head in air,
playfulness seem echoing in my heart,
my eyes following her.

Joy flowed through half-a-dozen bangles
her presence made unusual noise
yes, she is back in local quarters.

Same infectious welcoming smile,
sharing things and mingling with people,
she walks like floating in clouds.

Done, some days will be spend good,
coming with excuses and fables to get
a little of her attention and a return token.

Faraway Song

Far everyday, a song could play peacefully,
in noise of traffic, it would seem smooth,
providing a different rhythm, unintended.

A passion for someone, has become a voice,
of mingled tones, unlayering of characters,
what magic a music can create, impressive.

By evening music from coffee shop nearby,
will play another song eclectic, to which,
city people will dance till night, together.

The day the music stopped suddenly,
a little grim acted like a stone dropped,
in serene lake of city, unfortunately.

The electric song continued to play,
people came and gave applause to,
everything being played, danced whole nights.

Music they missed, made them crazier,
not wise, all remain on their souls to carry,
in as strange place where no one really plays.

Winged Birds

O winged bird! I fancy your flight,
as you jump from bush to bush,
encircle in abandoned corridors,
I wish to be friends with you.

In this balmy summer noon,
I know you would like some shade,
somewhere to rest in day,
cool with hay on side and happy to find some grain.

Hiding behind curtain door,
waiting for you, your chirpy sound,
happen to close door as you come fly,
so small, harmless in my hands.

I loved you I know,
that is why, I choose to color as I may,
red I will paint to spot you easily,
distinguishing as you hop or fly.

Alas! this effort to be with you over,
as soon as you find some puddle,
splashing in it with your fellows,
you soon forgot me, your bond.

Go away, winged bird!
now will see you gliding in sky.