Gond...

Gond in Hindi...means glue...glue that helps you hold on to those pieces of life...your hope,dreams and assorted stuff that rest of the world works really hard to crush...

ज़िन्दगी  के  छोटे  छोटे  टुकड़े  कभी  कभार  चिल्ला  उठते  हैं
दोस्त ,हमें  जोड़ने  का  वो  गोंद ,ढून्ढ  लाओ  ना

और जलाओ  वह  सपनो  की  धीमी  आंच ,हलकी  सी , गोंद  को  पिघलाती  हुई ,
मकसद  की उस  गोंद  से  जो   कभी  आखों  से  आसूं  बनकर  निकली  थी ..

माना ,पत्थरों  से  टकराकर  हम  टुकड़े रोज़  चकनाचूर  होते  हैं ,
वक़्त  के  थपेड़ों  से  उलटे  पुल्टे  होकर  यहाँ  वहां  भटक  जातें  ...

Woh kamra

ठेड़ा मेडा,कुबड़ा सा,
टूटा फूटा बिखरा सा,
गलत खानों में भरा हुआ वो कमरा,
जिनमे कभी यादें रहा करती थीं...

कोनो की गन्दगी,कहानी कहती थी
 गिरी चाय,माँ की मठरी की भोर,पुराने अख़बार
गंदे कपडे तितर बितर पड़े,सब,कुछ बोलते थे
हाँ,यहाँ कभी थोड़े पागल से,मसखरे,कुछ दोस्त रहा करते थे

Losing my religion...

Reading Finkler Question...something about violence
motivated racially or religiously sends chills through
my spine...Scares me,pushes me to see the darkest crevice
in human heart...when the human part is lost...
what pushes us from being a human to a frigid cold mamzer...


I finally lost what was never mine,
Religion,belief,that mark,the sign,

For like a pedophile it whispered something mean,
Hypnotized,enticed,confused,aroused,made me keen,

Told,its ok to spill their blood,for its not red,
Their pure,impure,their god,satan,poison injected in my head.

I raised the matchet ,inflicted razor sharp hate,
On the baby I used to croon for,on mother,even my life long mates,

It ( my hate ) won,I lost,though I cant realize,
Drops of blood on my soul,searing,scarred,agonized,

Hate is what I gained,fear is what prevailed,
Mere puppet I acted upon my masters wishes,unknown to me,veiled..

How long??

Success makes you a little forgetful.
You forget to question yourself,torment yourself.
Kind of forget to ask yourself some nagging questions...
Those nagging questions which raise their ugly head when we fail..
We see ourselves being denied of what is rightfully ours
And then we ask...How long...


I retrace,recount,those steps,back,further back,
Dizzy head,like a given up pugilist,
What went amiss,where it faltered,where the lack??
Unable to figure,hope,shade dimmer,hazy,covered by mist...


I know there is light,somewhere else,for sure,
Where my steps are waited upon,to be greeted,
Where that flickering lamp of success,glowing,pure,
And my thoughts,lucid,my own,not a proxy,stimulated...


But till then,I fight against those demons,
Under my bed,inside my head,troubling,keeping me awake
How long do I fight them,days,years or eons?
How long before I catch a blissful sleep,troubles abated,slaked...