Places you need to be.

There is gold in places where you can't buy it. 

There is gold in moments, 

in cornersof homes where we sit and converse, 

in palms who hold your face,

in eyes who wait for you. 

There is gold in places where you can never buy it.

What the world can't see.

जग कागज़ कागज़ करता है

मैंने हर्फ़ उछालकर देखें हैं

आकाश के सारे छोरों पर

और गर्मी की बरसातों में 

बदल सा उतारा है उनको

बूंदों में पिरोकर पहना है

- इन कानों में -

और सुनाया है तुझको

पानी में बुनती चूड़ी का संगीत

गीली अंगीठी की लकड़ी जिसको

हाथों में पिरोने बैठी है...

जग स्याही स्याही करता है

मैंने हर्फ़ घोलकर सर्दी की

सुबहों में तुझे पिलायें हैं

और धीमे से उनको मलकर

अपने इन झिलमिल हाथों पर

हर रोज़ ही माथे पे तेरे

सूरज की तरह उगायें हैं

मैने लफ्ज़ लिखें हैं आँखों की

पुतली में छिपी ख़ामोशी से

और हथेली पर तेरी उनको

नज़्मों की तरह रख आयीं हूँ

The carbon you are made up of.

A teak leaf fallen on the ground like this may be different experiences for different people. Some may see it as a mark of autumn. For some it may be gravity. Few would get into the decay chemistry leading to soil formation. It may remind many of their separation with a loved one. 

Then there are few who can hear the sound of the fall on the earth, of the wind blowing on the leaf and the leaf hugging those blue and red and green pebbles.  Those who can see the beauty of the veins playing modern art on a yellow canvas. Those who will pick it up, talk to it, smile and then set it free to fly with the wind. 

Those who know it belongs to the earth. It is the earth. So are we.

Lovestory.

This is a story

of expectations.

You think

'I' love the wine.

I think

'you' love the me I become

when I have gulped it down with you.

This is a story

of love.

Where the head is held high.

If you can board that train and say goodbye 

even when the numbness of her cold hand 

doesn't let it rise to you.

If you can reach your house 

knowing that she would keep loitering on station platforms before reaching hers.

If you can stay in that house angry

saying you are solving problems, 

without having solved what you left behind you at the station.

If you can keep getting angry over her past that can't be changed, knowing that you are burning your own present, and hers.

If you keep smothering the self confidence she gained after so much of toil,

Either she will diminish and die.

Or she'll pick herself up again,
keep walking in this mad crowd.

Cold and alone. But with her head held high.

No love which diminishes you is love.

The twins.

पहाड़ों- पठारों 

की सुबहों और शामों 

को ढकते अंधेरों 

से बहते उजालों 

से हर रोज़, पल- पल

रिसते सवालों

में चुपचाप बैठी....

मेरी ज़िन्दगी है। 

है बनती- बिगड़ती

उजड़ती- सँवरती

तपती - सुलग़ती

जमती - ठिठुरती 

थिरकती - मचलती

सिहरती - उफ़नती 

सौ रंग बुनती ,

तेरे हर्फ़ सुनती 

मीलों को गिनती 

लम्हों को सालों  

सालों मिसालों 

को धागों में बिनती 

तेरे राग जैसी , 

तेरी आग जैसी ,

...मेरी ज़िन्दगी है। 

All that glitters.

You put your life's savings to buy gold and diamonds and jewels for some grand ceremony someday. Ahh. If I could show you what real jewels look like. And what it feels like to adorn them. 

And they had been put here for us all.

Wild.

My words
run out of breath
thinking
of the silence of
- yellow afternoons -
spent with you
on pine roads
cutting through a mountain.

That day,
when
our silence
runs out of breath,
WON'T WE?
plant us
- as seeds -
on these pine roads.
Those that grow
Wild.

Essays on love - You rain on me.

बारिश की बूंदों सा तू आज मुझपर बरस फिर रहा है 

धरा को गगन से , मुझे मेरे मन से  दरस कर रहा है। 

तू है कौन जिसने ?

मेरी हर सुबह को 

हरा कर दिया है। 

तू है कौन जिसने 

खाली से मन को 

भरा कर दिया है। 

तू  है कौन जिसने 

मुझी को मुझी  से 

बड़ा कर दिया है। 

तू है कौन जिसने 

इबादत को मेरा 

ख़ुदा कर दिया है... 

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