चाँद, तारे अकेले आसमान में,
मेरे-तुम्हारे भाग्य के ग्रह-नक्षत्र भी,
अनंत काल से। कब तक? पता नहीं।
अजीब है न, जब पास आने की
चाह हो तब अनंत को मुट्‌ठी में
भरना, शब्दों में बाँधना भी आसान
होता है, गुमनामी भी मंज़ूर होती है।
आखिर हम भी तो हैं
किसी के आसमान में कोई
उज्ज्वल ग्रह। बस हैं गुमनामी में।
कब से, कब तक? पता नहीं।‌

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Between April's
dusty, thirsty flowers
and June's shower-soaked
petals, a long wait
lives vased.

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Summer simmers,
colddrink shots help
a hemisphere,
winter dances
outside as permafrost
in another.

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May May fulfill our wishes
or lead them to wishlists
before they are forgotten.

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यादों की वो खिड़की

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In your wait, the
laptop screen
dims, goes off.

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Your story manifests being
a poem
in your metre.

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Longing lips. Looked back.
Masked up.
You'd become smog.

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I'm a reader who reads faces only,
tried but couldn't read between the lines,
after crossing life's ravines, where they say the occasional
rain was but a rain of words, I realised I was behind
life's car's glass windows, in safe confines.
Now I've decided to
soak in the rain when it comes but it looks like
a desert. But I have my caravan ready
with prayers in my pocket~ hoping I don't lose my reader's eyes.
Yes, that's how, I hit the restart button,
turned into a writer.

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