Buried inside rosy lips
Peeking through emerald-colored hair
Is an artless soul
Lost in vines of thoughts and fears
Get closer, you will find me there.

फ़रवरी के महीने में बारिश?
बारिश की बूंदे इस कोहरे भरी खिड़की पर थपकी दे रहीं थीं। रात के सन्नाटे में ये सुकून भरी आवाज़ जैसे एक लोरी की तरह थी। एक तरफ की खिड़की खोली तो मंद हवा एक भीनी सी खुशबू अपने साथ लिए मेरे बिस्तर पर बैठ गई। जास्मिन के फूलों की लगती है। मैं लोरी सुनते सो गई।
सुबह उठी देखा चारो तरफ पत्ते बिखरे पड़े थे। नीम के पेड़ की वो डंगाल टूट कर गिर गई जिसपे गौरैये का घोसला था। जास्मिन के फूल भी टूट कर गिर गए। आज सुबह कोई हलचल नहीं है। लोग धूप में खड़े हो कर चाय की चुस्की नहीं ले रहे। ना ही आसपास के कुत्ते भ्रमण के लिए निकले। दुबक कर, थरथराते हुए, ठंड और बारिश से लड़ रहे हैं।
जिसे मैं मंद हवा समझ बैठी, वो तो तूफान निकला। सोचने का समय ही नहीं मिला और एक तूफान जैसे अपने साथ क्या कुछ ले गया। अब सब कुछ कितना बदला बदला सा लग रहा है।
सच कह रहीं थीं बुआ, अब सब पहले जैसा नहीं लगता।

On a chilly day ahead of Xmas
I was strolling along the street
The night donned fog
And trees played with the breeze

As my podcast stopped playing –
Why’d you only call me when you’re high
Someone broke the silence on the lane
With a deep, hoarse voice

Now I know it’s dark
But who can convince the heart?
I looked for that familiar stranger
Who stopped by the book mart

Slowly,
The creases of my hand
Are erasing the imprints
Of the fingers I’d clench
When I was a child.
The tree in my backyard
Is also shedding leaves
As if ready
To pass the baton
And let them fly.

Slowly,
I’m stepping into a world
Of the unknown,
Of mystical beauty
Of (delusional) freedom.
Those fruits
Have also fallen
On the barren land
Unwary of strong winds
Careless of the season to come.

आज फ़िर एक नई सुबह थी। सूरज की रोशनी कमरे के खिड़की के पर्दों से छन कर मेरी बंद आँखों पर बैठ, मेरे उठने का इंतज़ार कर रही थीं। मुझे रोशनी में नींद नहीं आती, ये उन्हें पता था। आखिर उठना ही पड़ा।

कमरे से निकल कर बाहर आई तो देखा कि घर के नीम के पेड़ पर फल लग गए हैं। एक अजीब सी खुशबू है। नीम की? फाल्गुन के मौसम की?

Silver shining hair
And a golden nosering
Vibrant colours on your dress
And also on your crocheted mats
I guess you loved every colour
Just like you worshipped every God you knew.

I still remember the chants you made me learn
And how to bow down before closing the doors of our temple
But you never taught me
How to unsee the void at the porch every evening
And that green wooden chair where now only the dust sits.

The doorbell rings
At four in the morning
I reach the door
With blurry eyes
The room smells of smoke
From the candles I lit hours before.

It’s you at the door
Clenching my favourite flowers
Greeting me with a grin
I ask you in my mind
“Where were you last night?
I waited for days and hours
To get a glimpse of this smile.”
Guess you heard me,
Like you always do.
“I was caught up in work”, you say
Giving me reasons for your absence

Two sides of the same coin
We’re like a glass of
half water, half wine.

Just as the kettle is meant for tea,
And the hill always shelters cold breeze
Just as every picture has a memory,
Some things are meant to be
Together, inseparable.
Like the green of the forest
Like the sweet in the dessert
Like your hand in my hand
In a 0°C weather.
And I may not ask for perfect endings.

She was trying to
Find the oxymoron
To her sorrowful life
As she turned
The pages of the past.
“I will travel the world“,
She had once proclaimed
When asked what her dream was.
Oh, what an irony it seems
That she travelled through countries
From the Arab states to Turkey
And sailed to the beautiful Greek islands
Which were nothing like her home,
Where she woke up to dark skies
And where the alarm
Wasn’t the chirping birds
But deafening explosions
And still, unhappy,
As if she regrets
what she dreamt of.
She now searches for a covert
Which would be her home
But unlike her home
Where faces wouldn’t be so alien
And love and food would be in excess.
And as she takes refuge
In the next alien country
To be persecuted again,
All she wishes for her life
Is to turn from awful
To awfully good.

Like a bright light
You came in through my
permeable window-like heart.
I opened it all for you
For flowers to bloom
And darkness to fade
But too much of something
Is bad, they say.
The heat burnt my skin
The flowers wilted
The home of amour I offered you
Was filled with hot air.
Guess you were like summer
Seasonal, transient
Leaving raindrops as you depart
Washing off every trail
But making a promise to come again,
Making a vow to come again.