Monday, February 22, 2016

Red Shadow

Red Shadow

August 28, 2015 at 4:14pm
If I had acolourful shadow
I would wear
the darkest cloak
just to see
how much colour I could bleed
through the thickness of the night.
That lay in saturation within the folds of my destiny

The earth
would suck the colours
and give them away
to the maple trees
All lined up along the trench
And from my piece of earth
I would watch the black leaves,
The black trunk
And the black sun.
Sprinkling a plethora of myriad colours all around
White and gold

The only thing alive
Would be the dust
In hands all grey and charred
From cooking up stories in black and white

Each crack would fill up with golden dust
‘kintsugi heals’,I heard them say
and wisdom comes when maples bleed

unfolding mysteries in my fist
I’ll show you love
in a handful of life

-Ghazal 28.8.2015

A tribute to Intezar Husain

Dedicated to Intezar Husain-The legend who lives on in our hearts forever.

You promised you would visit my home
For last time was too busy
And we couldn’t go to the bird sanctuary
Or the by lanes of old Delhi
Or meet Bittu who has an eatery just round the corner
You promised you would come...
I remember a long time ago
A marigold in your hand
You found amid the trimmed hedges at my place
How tenderly you had picked it up and cupped it in your hands.
The sun had so subtly borrowed some yellows
from the sunshine in your palms
And as you walked ahead
With me , a little girl , trying to match your steps
My tiny steps
Struggling to keep pace with you and Papa
You stopped and smiled and matched your pace with mine
And at the Okhla Barage
Under the big banyan tree
As you paused to take a look around
The monkey with the long tail
Cautiously climbed down
And snatched the flower from your hand
How you smiled!
The notes of the orchestra coudnt be sweeter.
“Kahaniyon ki jade bohot gehri hoti hain lekin nazmein
...nazmein to awaara hoti hain..’’

Your words still ring in my ears
And today
As I watch the sunset
The yellows are a shade quieter
A story in my heart
will live on forever in quietude
The paper is wet
The ink-
(Rest in peace Intezar Husain)


Wear Walls

Wear Walls

Let us all wear walls
For the lamp on the shelf
Is scared of the breeze
The breeze that blows
Will extinguish it
Only the wick will remain
Carrying remnants of fire that once danced on its apex

Now let us all wear walls
 Remove every single clothing that sticks to your silhouette
Against the setting sun
You are too conspicuous
Your voice too loud
Let the plaster consume the brittle pieces of your thoughts
As you spit them out

Wear walls
You will be safe
Let them design walls
In every shade
But monotextured
So that every voice is a single voice
A single voice
A recurrent rondo

Wear walls

…..Ghazal ( 23.2.16..10:20AM)

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Zoom in

Zoom in

Far far away
From the mainstream life
On a mountain rugged and raw
Lives a monk

A crimson speck on the horizon yonder
My eyes behold
His cloak
 as purple as the misty brush
Of  Claude Monet
Over the purple landscape of the soul

As I inch closer
The pall rises
The monk is a tree
The tree is oak ,  a hundred years old
Each line on the bark
As deep as the sigh
Of Godess  Inanna on Ebih
That fills the hollows in the universe

Closer ahead 
Under the tree
Sits  the wise one
With wisdom of the sages
Sanctifying all crevices

He speaks and the winds pause to listen
A million stars break into dust
And sprinkle far and wide
Unto the smoky void

As I zoom my lens
On  a canvas wide
I see a painting live
Embossing a Van Gogh stroke
Of  a starry night in daylight

The Wise one
Under the crimson tree
Amid  bells  and beams of light
Amid bells and beams of life
Somewhere up in heaven
The Maker smiles
And puts his palette  away

…Ghazala  (18/2/16….1.15 am)

Sketches in literature

Sketches in literature : Shamim Hanafi writes definitive profiles of writers, evaluating their contribution