Saturday, January 7, 2017

When I met a stranger

He who has no songs in his praise,
He who toils in silence through the day,
It's part of his skin now, 
The tired look on his face,
Needs, he needs to take care of
The finances should be in place.

And since he's got a gun between his legs,
He needs to forever be the man he is,
Feelings he can't let show,sharing them is a sin,
The turmoil inside, he comes to terms with it,
When a man of his mettle, lends him an ear,
He whispers to him the story that is his .

Growing up, we forget our own stories,
In evenings like these, we try to recollect,
How it would have felt to live those moments
Moments that are part of our history today.

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Stories

I leave the best of my stories incomplete.
The good ones suffice to compete.

The best ones don't deserve an end,
They must live my lifetime,
I bid my characters goodbye,
But our stories are forever mine.

Not to be shared,
Never to be written,
Not for me to narrate,
Not for anyone to ever listen.

When the end knocks,
I run away.
'Cause no one will really ever matter.
But the stories?
Always!


Farewell

It's been a welcome night,
Lonely, quiet, free.
Sans mankind, the kind that suffocates,
And the self that I never wanted to be.

A couple of small bottles by my side,
And cigarettes that burn like the fire inside.

I ponder over the past,
Take notes of the present.
I abhor the future I see.
The misfortunes of the past,
Now seem decent.

I think, on this particular crossroads of life,
I know where I am supposed to head to.

To the world that doesn't believe in you,
You simply bid a premature adieu.


Saturday, November 26, 2016

When GOD gets drunk

It's her that makes me God,
And she alone makes me a man.
We dont exist in isolation,
I give her, the best I can.

Every night, as I embrace her,
She pushes me away,
Only until that point,
Where I force her to stay.

I let go of of all that binds,
Lesser mortals and their kinds,

Gods weren't meant to see through,
Humans and the shit that they do.

Pardon me child, I have had enough,
With you and your likes and their stuff.

This God soaks himself tonight,
In the finest whiskey and wine.
The earth deserves to die,
In this moment so divine.

Sunday, November 6, 2016

Of Prayers and Wishes

Six feet underneath,
A dead saint exasperated.
A slender piece of red cloth,
Fluttered on a wall.
A knot under his watch,
Will never be untied now.

How he bears,
Half hearted wishes people hurriedly make.
As if the earth and chadars don't weigh enough,
He is choked to death time and again,
In an endless cycle,
By ephemeral desires of evanescent devotees,
Masked under the veil of a holy prayer,
A prayer that's as good as their words,
Hollow, shallow and always superficial.

The sanctity of his legacy under threat,
He might just close his doors to all this hypocrisy.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Companions

A silent promise she's made,
Togetherness of a lifetime.
The promise stands strong,
As years have passed by.

Others made them too,
All lies.
No issues really!
Life goes on and time flies.

Saturday, August 27, 2016

Noise vs silence



A simple question,
Laid in front of the poet.

Who he loved more?

The Silent Noise ?
Or
The Noisy Silence?

He chucked both,
Plunged into the never-ending void.
Never to come back again.

The game ends tonight.
Try as you might.