Hats off to you, lockdown mum!

An almost falling laptop and a kid tugged under each arm,

She whispers to herself, ‘stay calm, please do stay calm’,

A school homework deadline clashes with that of an office blog,

A dishevelled head, a ringing doorbell and a looming Zoom call,

She looks around – messy home, messy kid and a messy mind,

Yet she is defiantly determined to put all the concerns behind,

She lets the kid watch CBeebies on telly with a fruit in his hand,

She clears a corner in her head and a room and sets out a plan,

The telly doesn’t distract her as she works at her little desk,

The mess doesn’t bother her as she continues with projects,

Sipping coffee, glancing through the doorway from time to time,

She knows she still has a mountain (Snowden maybe) to climb,

Her kid switches off the telly, smiles and quietly get seated,

Half the day is done and she has survived and succeeded,

The family eats together, some sandwiches and chips,

They laugh and talk about funny video call blips,

Every task that follows gives her a sense of achievement,

Days’ worth of work and patience bring the day to an end.

Hat’s off to you, lockdown mum!

A mere thought

They have stories to tell and i have to their tales to hear, i used to be a writer but now, i write feedbacks on the works of others. motivations are leading me to cipher and i call life to be more agile.

The Times Square

Flames of concrete burn in the vastness of the sky,

There are beams reflecting the glitter of the eyes,

A jungle emerges of many lines and many a dots,

Creating images that evoke amusing thoughts,

Creatures crawling and speeding on its feet,

Dragons, angels and demons roaming freed,

Dense and tense, like the notion of the hell,

Yet the magic casts a heaven bounding spell,

Emotions swaying on the melody of the lights,

Astound the weak hearts with animated strides,

Unleashed by flashes and captivated by glamour,

Beasts built of bricks stand in shining armours,

Titillating the eye and sinfully arousing desire,

With time in its clutches, the square gazes higher and higher.

Thought Collector

I am a thought collector in my own mind,

Of thoughts that lie hidden in a pile of filth and dirt,

Like little gems waiting to be explored and implored,

I am a thought collector, who gathers filth and dirt together,

I filter and clean and polish the lustreless thoughts,

Bringing a shine to the lifeless creations of mind,

I am a thought collector with innumerable collections,

And yet not one can be counted or valued,

They stand in a closet as floating shadows,

And I take glory in those that can’t be glorified.

A Little Letter

Hope debauched by reality becomes real again,

When dreams of you turn me insane and inane,

When the reverie I betrothed threatens a divorce,

I write to you with the hope of seeking recourse,

Little by little, letter by letter, I write this letter,

To you my dear, sitting in a country far from here,

Every tear blotched letter is of a morose hue,

Every ‘I’ I write tells the woes of I sans you,

With a drop dangling at the edge of my lashes,

I see your smiles in curves and frowns in dashes,

Every crease on the paper screams an appeal,

Every ink stain is the story of the pain I feel,

Deep as the ocean and shallow like my smile,

I compose words that I know you would like,

But my back tired and my letters have bent,

Counting on my cheeks all the tears spent,

Fearful of the fate it is destined to meet,

I seal every letter with a quivering kiss,

And spend my days with my eyes on the door,

For a little bird to bring a little letter home…

To Israel... from Palestine

Not again you drop the dreadful bombs,
Not again destroy the innocent wombs,
Play not again in my blood and gloat,
Slit not again the thousand throats,
Cries will not again silently go dead,
Curses will not again remain threats,
Not again will blood filled tears go dry,
Justice will not again be just a passerby,
Your noises will not again throttle my voice,
My brothers will not again give you a choice,
Not again I'll let you chop my limbs,
This time you see, the Right will win!

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कई दिल खिले यहाँ और कई पड़े हैं मुश्किल में,

आबाद करूं हूँ दिल मैं भी अपना इस महफ़िल में,

चेहरों की इस किताब में, हर हर्फ़ में तेरी मेरी शक्ल बसी,

पैग़ामों में भेजो तस्वीरें, अल्फ़ाज़, अश्क़ और कभी हँसी,

छुपके बैठा नहीं है कोई, गोशा कोई नहीं है ख़ाली,

जवाबों की बनती हैं क़िस्ते, हो चाहे बस एक सवाली,

तस्वीरों की कहकशां करें हैं गर्दिश इन दिवारों पे,

हर फ़र्द चला है, घूम रहा है मुख़्तलिफ़ सईयारों पे,

एहसासों के इज़हार का ज़रिया, इनकार भी, इज़हार भी है,

जज़बातों के इस मजमे में, नए रिश्तों की पुकार भी है,

गुफ़तगुओं पे ना वक़्त का पहरा, ना मुल्कों की जदुद,

असलियत से ग़ाफ़िल होकर सबने बनाए मेजाज़ी वजूद,

मैं भी ढूंढ़ रहा हूँ ख़ुद को अपनों के लव्ज़ों में,

यहीं कहीं फ़ेना हुई है मेरी भी हस्ती इन हर्फ़ों में

कई दिल खिले यहाँ और कई पड़े हैं मुश्किल में,

आबाद करूं हूँ दिल मैं भी अपना इस महफ़िल में।