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नज़र मिला

third volume of 15 poems on the self - mostly written between 2019 and 21 - traversing the themes of being and relationships
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नज़र मिला

These poems traverse the themes of being & relationships: of the conflict between where one is and how one wants to be, of the inevitable joys and false pleasures in disenchanting engagements and of vulnerability and the image of being open yet invincible.

This collection of 15 texts in verse is the third volume of poems on the self. 7 of these poems were written in 2019 and 6 in 2017, while the remaining two were written in 2021 of which क़िस्मत was originally penned in 2000 but recreated this June.

All 7 poems of 2019, except बू हूँ मैं are in English, while the 6 from 2020 and 2 from 2021 have equal numbers in English and Hindustani both.

15.10.21

बू हूँ मैं

अपने नासूर-ए-बू में
मदहोश हूँ मैं
ग़लतफ़हमियाँ रूबरू
ख़ामोश हूँ मैं

क्या क़र्ज़ क्या एहसान
न फ़र्ज़ न फ़रमान
नफ़रत के तराज़ू में
फरामोश हूँ मैं

30.05.21

Seeking Kindness

I have often been made
Aware of the harshness
In the tone of my voice
It is as if my insecurities
Spray a reckless barrage
Of unkindness all around

Is it mere coincidence then
That my sinuses are
Almost always inflamed
Through day, night & seasons
Leaking mucus into my
Throat to make it hoarse

07.07.21

नज़र मिला

गुर्राता हूँ पर काटता नाहीं
दाँत दिखाता भेड़िया ही सही
पर भेड़ की खाल तो ओढ़ी नहीं

आँखें, साँसें, क़दम, ज़ुबान तेज़ दिमाग़
दिल में दरारें, हाथ ख़ाली, जिगर में तेज़ाब
कोमल मन उछाल-पटकता भावनाओं का सैलाब

बदलता चेहरा पलटता ख़याल भी
पर देखो सही पहना कोई नक़ाब नहीं
मिलाई हो कभी जो नज़र वो आज भी वही

10.06.20

क़िस्मत

मेरी लापता मुस्कान
है तुम्हारा बदनसीब
गहरी रात में दीदारे-नूर
मैं हुआ खुशनसीब

जो पाई है जिद्दो-जहद औ शिद्दत
है मेरी बेपरवाह क़िस्मत
न मैंने माँगी रहमत न रियायत
औ न कर सका कभी ख़िदमत

दूर से आता जो तुम्हें नज़र
चश्मे-ग़ुरूर औ बेमुरवत
है इक डरा छिपा बच्चा
मुस्कुराने को है जिसकी क़िस्मत

अब मैं आहों में नहीं
बिलक-बिलक रोऊँगा
न बनो मेरी ज़ंजीरें
तुम्हें भी साथ ले जाऊँगा

२०००, ०२.०६.२१

freedom or death

is it freedom or death

can’t tell one from the other

as afraid or as light

I’ve never felt either

perhaps we should talk about it

but let’s not bother

01.19

peace

seeking that moment of peace

when a known caller rings

yet the breath doesn’t flutter

03.07.20

Homecoming

released from a bated-breath embrace
light warms moist wings as they unfold
always a perilous fall from grace it seems
but perhaps also the only chance to soar

many a calls of love haven’t echoed
I wonder if they’ve figured me out
or do they bear the shame of my disgrace
in mute affection unable to join my revelry

life has now come a full circle midway
to be othered at the hands of another
the cross-caste half-bred misfit outcast
actually inhabits the memorial outhouse

my fingers look surprisingly elegant
in the giant shadow on the wall
feeling making thinking caressing
that’s what my lips & my hands are for

03.01.19

Ladakh

moving unforgiving landscape
makes the heart brimful with joy
and the lungs swell in grief

a rebellion against forefathers
magnificent giants stoke memories
of unspoken promises to father

daunting yet calm bellowing forms
evoke immense gratitude for mother
and all that bears and nurtures

breathtaking colours of the soul
stir up a longing for brotherhood
a reminder of possible happiness

myriad textures merging diverging
hair, skin and smile frozen in strife
solitary wayfarers retrace paths

life is unbearable yet beautiful
persevere because and in spite of pain
surging overwhelming humility

21.06.19

it’ll be alright

image of myself

as a naked child

lying curled on its side

and mother’s hand

stroking my back

I feel it’ll be alright

choking on my sobs

31.10.19

incapabilities

the searing high
of marking ‘complete’
all the small & big
chores set for the day
the delusion of
being intensely involved
in the most significant
tasks for a mundane world

06.11.19, 31.05.21

Distant Joys

soothing charm of driving
through a winter night
in spite of sudden apparitions
and false sunrises
big & small stars passing by
in brilliant indifference
heading with passive intent
towards distant celebrations

dec”19

तू नूर

तू समंदर उछालता महताब
तू हुस्न बाँटता नूरे-आफ़ताब
इस खामोशी को सहलाने चूमने
आ गुज़रेंगे कई तूफ़नो-सैलाब

१०.०३.२०

पेट बीच आता है

हलासन हो, या अर्धमत्स्येंद्र
या पश्चिमोत्तासन
सड्डनली पवन मुक्त हो जाता है
बेग़ैरत पेट बीच आता है

अपने जूतों का लेंस बांधना हो
या महंतों के पैर छूना
फॉर्बिड्डन चखने को जो जी चाहता है
कंबख़्त पेट बीच आता है

जी करता है आग लगा दूँ
मक्कारों को सबक़ सिखा दूँ
ग़नीमत पेट बीच आता है
पर टाइम सबको सच दिखलाता है

16.05.20

speak to me

speak to me in an unknown language

spare me the dread & drudgery of

intellect, power, meaning & purpose

wrap me instead in unfamiliar tongues

of music, beauty, silence & love

10.12.20

the stream

I was frolicking in the waters
in wonder of their flow & clarity

oblivious to the sanctity of
the glaciers that birthed them

as well as the coliform
they brought from upstream

there were men on either banks
throwing noise & gestures

at me in anger for my
callousness & disregard

the significance of their stream
I couldn’t be bothered by

anything else but the waters
against my bare & longing skin

10.12.20

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mail@designpendulum.com

terms of use

site design : compoundeye compoundeye

site development : malkum malkum

© 2020. Design Pendulum.