Silent Eyes.

They don't speak a word,
Unlike the others out there,
But I still believe,
There has to be a story they tell..

I never really got a chance
To look deep inside them ,
The only ones, I ever wanted to,
It just didnt happen, Who do I blame?

Sometimes when my gaze happens to ,
Meet my Eyes in the mirror,
I see them tired, and uninterested,
In reciprocating to him who they belong to.

They've been the same ever since they saw you,
And they demand for the same sight all the time,
They know I cant fulfill this wish of theirs,
They don't see anymore, just dream of you all the while.

They've stopped praising other forms of beauty,
They don't even admire red roses and blue skies,
But they flutter, and retreat shyly,
At the thought of one day meeting your eyes.

Leave out the rest, Give them a chance,
The ones who roll still worlds into motion.
Come down to this corner of the Earth some evening,
Raise a toast to them, To their non-stop admiration.

With your consent, let me now sneak into this scene,
As I confess , keeping aside all the lies,
I do wonder what would it be like,
The day when I look into your eyes!

A Man of his words.

I fail to come up with any estimate, 

Of the words i've spoken since I learnt to do so,

Weird it might seem, a worthless thought, 

That's height of joblesness, I know! 

But during these jobless moments of my day, 

When everything else fades away,  

They refuse to leave me alone, 

Words- written and unwritten, spoken and unspoken..

I wonder how peaceful would this world have been,

Had there been no words communicated ;

I feel this urge to disown  all of them, 

Words that destroy peace, make things complicated.

Lost in thoughts of a world without any words, 

Am broguht back to this real world- " Bhaiya Chai".

See! Words don't even let you think about peace, 

Let alone, experiencing it , now you know why!

My attention is drawn towards a flock of birds returning home, 

They race away screeching at the top of their voice,

I wish I could reach for their necks, and choke them to death, 

Something that they deserve for making all that noise.

But now they've passed, and it's again silent around,

A silence that symbolises peace, the peace we chase.

But this no longer seems pleasant, I order another tea,

I want some words around, 'Addiction' my logic says.

I hit upon a realization, something I always knew, 

The only ones who sleep in peace are the dead, 

Peace is Death, as is silence, ours is the chase,

I breathe deep, Feel alive, with words pouring into my head. 

I guide them to the deepest chamber of my heart, 

I'll never lose them now, They'll be safe here, 

I promise them , You'll be forever mine, 

I'll stand by you, no matter who u go to, Remember I care.

I imagine again a world devoid of words, and smile, 

Looking back at my imagination of a graveyard like place.

The truth is life would not be life, without words,

Let them flow in through all corners, pumping up the chase. 

The glass is now empty, A reason to get up and move, 

Pen down some words waiting to be shared . 

I move on and type them down , Just to let them know, 

No matter what they do, I still cared. 

Cared because they give me evenings like the one today, 

Cared because, when all left, they were still here.

Cared because they add new dimensions to my existence, 

Cared beacuse they know it all- every little wish, every disturbing fear. 

What an experience this has been, 

An evening down the street.

Lessons learnt and laws forgotten, 

Words pervading a mind discreet.

I was busy killing time, having tea, 

and watching home bound birds. 

When in the blink of an eye I realised, 

I have been a MAN of my WORDS!

Ending it with a smile!

Don't raise that hand, keep it wrapped in your pocket,

A wave of a hand, doesn't make anything easier.

So keep that goodbye for someone who takes them, 

Leave as you wish, But don't wave that hand here. 

Perhaps the beginning was never meant to be, 

And so let it be, The end is now here.. 

That which ends, never really existed, 

An end is all that it deserved, why care?

Forget the romanticism this world likes to live in, 

Where Endings are always happy, And so are you..

Rewind your life , and see for yourself, 

If these stories and poems are actually true? 

Happy endings are disguised beginnings, 

Ends that you enforce to make a new start;

Each story that ends or begins, has two characters,  

One playing his game, The other meagrely his part.

We've lived in this illusion for a while now, 

But the myth is now shattered, It's time is done.

You don't have to pretend , That you cared, 

Nor make it bearable , by saying it was fun;

This is a failed world, Each broken piece testifies, 

An end is an end, There never was a happy one.

Your Hands in Mine.

"What would it be like, if one fine morning you wake up,
To live a dream that you used to see while asleep?
We have always talked about reality being so mean,
So harsh yet so awaited, So obvious yet so deep!
But Dreams shall be meagre desires unfulfilled,
Until they get real, and you know how does it actually feel!
Close you eyes, and dream about that fine morning,
When a dream is broken, Just to let you experience it in real! "

~ ~ Aslam Baba