Outcast Love

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He'd given his heart to the first,
She'd offered her body to the second,
He laid down his soul to the third,
She shared her mind with the fourth.
When they crossed roads,
And stumbled upon love,
They thought nothing was left to offer.
Love smiled gathering their left overs
And building a Home putting together
His broken pieces with hers,
Into one beautiful masterpiece.

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चल आज फिर एकबार
वो बरसों पुरानी खेल खेलते है।
प्यार में हम दुनिया भूल लेते है।
तू रूठे में मनाऊ, तू माने तो में सताऊ,
बातों में तेरे यूं मुस्कुराऊ;
बेवज़ह एक धुन आज गुनगुनाऊँ।
आज तू फिर एक बार हाथ थाम ले,
में एक और बार निहार लू तुझे।
आज चल फिर इस दुनिया से दूर
एक कहानी लिखते हैं ।
उस जगह की और उन लोगो की,
जो हकीकत बनते बनते यूं
ख्वाबो में खो गए।

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Shackles of reality,
Weighting down the soul.
Bank balance, rent, groceries.
Burden of responsibility
Running in the mind.
Deadlines, promotions, dues.
Tired body and unfulfilled desires,
Breathing yet dying everyday.
Artists, Dreamers, Poets, Painters.
"Mercy Mercy Mercy!"
Cries the Heart in silence.

-

Hold your breath a little longer.
The light is not far off.
Don't lose hope over lost causes,
Your story is far from over.

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Life is a masquerade ball.
Of pretense, good and bad
Hidden behind those veils, our true selves
Somewhere deeply lost.
Dances of envy, ego and fate,
Of love and life pretended to be great.
Masks of images, ideals and emotions
Of defense, lies and deception
Removing them would cause your skin to rip
So comfortable are those charades so deep.

But tired am I, weary of pretending
"I don't care, I don't feel, I don't love deeply"
That I dared once, just for once,
To remove the mask off my face.
The society mocked the freckles that showed;
The imperfect skin, the dark spots within.
Dejected by it all, the mask went back again
Never to come off the face carefully hidden,
Never for you to read the real me.
Never even for once.

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Chittor Ke Jauhar Ke Ashko Se,
Jiska Rajya Baitha Tha,
Uss Pratap ne Kabhi Bhi,
Dusra Jauhar Na Hone Di.

-

BEGUM

Losing homes to battles.
Children to politics.
Power to ambitions.
Life to silences.
Love to rules.
And freedom to egos.
And you assumed
Being a Princess costed nothing.

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The silence of the darkest hour,
The blinking stars and arc moon,
The ticking clock and whirling fan,
All witness the poetry that flew,
Like a waterfall brushing against the rocks,
Was the ink against the paper.
Sheets crumbled up everywhere,
A lamp flickering in the breeze;
Every day a new love was found,
Every night the solitude scribbled poetry.
Every night was key to the lock
Of the day's dream of secret desires.
And every night she wished for miracles,
For every day she lived.
Eyes shining In hope and prayers,
She wished upon the universe
" For once, just for once,
Let me be a muse, in someone else's poetry."

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The summer afternoon bliss
The scorching sun and hot wind
On the rooftop a bunch of us sat
Playing cards and flying kites.
The norwesters made us dash indoor,
But just at the threshold I looked back.
It so happened that a few houses away
She stood arms stretched, hair undone
Welcoming the rain with open arms.
And the storm she surged in me that day
Is yet to die down.

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