Total Pageviews

Tuesday, 17 December 2013

Another Body/Another Land

That Night
He came brimming as a Conspiracy.
Started loving me fanatically
Like a Dictator
In a state of emergency.

Obsessed with Power
He overthrew my body.
Observed my every move
As if devising a new plot.

He policed me keenly
Like a seditious statement.
His lips
That night
Resembled the Media
Loaded to seduce
With catchy phrases.

His rough skin
Scratched strange Maps
Altering the entire landscape in me.

He edited all my words out
Removed them altogether
With his diplomatic kisses.

He inserted all his madness
Revolution, Rage in me.
I shuddered:
An uninterrupted earthquake.

My Body
A profiteering Factory.
My Hair
An opaque smoke.
My Chest
A Nuclear Plant
In its nascent state.

By the End of the night
When the Wind blew like News
I could sense
His whole Army in my mind
Shooting Pain.

He was Satisfied
He declared.
And why should he not be?
He had dramatically conquered
Another Body/Another Land.

Monday, 16 December 2013


Of all the Nothingnesses
That come my way
And invade me
With a barrage of Emotions
Too difficult to express.

My Love -
Which one should I name after you?

Monday, 9 December 2013

Poem Postponed

In view of
The major crisis
Around the
Delicate regions of Heart
Following the disappearance of Love
The Poem
Scheduled for today
You are the Skin I wear
Has been postponed
Beloved’s safe return.

Inconvenience is
Poetically regretted.

Sunday, 8 December 2013

In Memory of Agha Shahid Ali

Because you loved repeating, “What to Say?”
Unanswered everything perishes, what to say?

Permissible it remains to kiss the Death  
Ah! Your lips forbidden, what to say?

That Chinar tree still meditates about us
To the leaves of Memory, what to say?

Again, My History befriends nightmares
Again, we were sold cheap, what to say?

Cold smiles our love smuggles, casually
Blind it was always, Disinterested, what to say?

Saturday, 7 December 2013


Most of the times
Life seems
Like fitting a peg in the desert.

What balances
Rather disturbs
The Earth within me
Is the Dandelion of your Memory
Which sprouts frequently
 From the belly of my
Barren Skin.

Thursday, 5 December 2013


Raastey Dhundhlay, Purkhaar Huwe Jaate Hai
Bin Tumhare Safar Dushwaar Huwe Jaate Hai

Zindagi Kay In Ghaney Andhaeroun Mein, Hardum
Diyey Teri Yaadoun Kay Darkaar Huwe Jaate Hai

Abke Thaan Lee Hai Tumhe Bhula Deney Ki
Hum Bhi Kya Ab Kirdaar Huwe Jaate Hai

Hijr Kay Iss Dard Mein Hum Aksar
Teri He Yadoun Say Sangsaar Huwe Jaate Hai

Suna Hai Seekh Chuke Ho Tum Waqt Guzaarna
Hum Bhi Ab Kuch Fankaar Huwe Jaate Hai

Monday, 2 December 2013


As the Oxford English Dictionary defines it
Separation is:
“the action or state of moving or being moved apart”

By the definition
It seems then:
We have separated
Long ago.

Exist separately in each other.

And now
Every moment
Keep knitting
A moving account of Separation
Into one another.  

My Dear,

Who will publish the Dictionary of Love? 

Friday, 29 November 2013

Your Literary Eyes

Having read
The fiction in your Eyes
Tricked with rich Imagery.

It seems
I can
With ease –
A captivating
Autobiography of Love
Fraught with
Unloved moments
And Unbearable pain

Oh! The Literature that your Eyes possess.

Wednesday, 27 November 2013

Love is no News

They all pester me with their questions.
How did it happen?
Do you know her?
Is she the one?
And what not…..!!!

In a poetic frustration
I answer:

She created History
When she called
After decades of cold war
On my phone.

I picked up the call.
And it all started.

To cut it short:
It was a conspiracy through radio waves.
A well-planned coup
Against the dictatorship of facades.

First, Breath committed suicide.
Then, the entire technology of the Soul faltered.
I lost the beloved land of my skin.
My senses are still casualties.

So please 
leave me alone.

How did it happen?

It happened because of her one casual sentence:
They all get ready to script it.

“How are you?”

They look at each other in amazement.
And disappointingly say:
This won’t sell  
Let’s go.

Saturday, 23 November 2013

Free Kashmir*

“I can free Kashmir”
She said temptingly.

“But on a condition”: ______

“Love me more than Freedom”

Since then
I am
A Slave
In Love with her.

Wednesday, 20 November 2013


“Death has a vagrant Soul”
I say.

“So has Sadness”
She replies curiously.

We glance
And Smile
At each other’s Sorrow.

The spade of Lips
Plucks our Smiles
and buries them
In the graveyard of Cheeks.

“Death has a vagrant Soul”
I say.

“So has Sadness”

Monday, 11 November 2013

Death Foretold

She thought
Her vein
Was a Ribbon.


She would cut it
And inaugurate
Something quite new
For herself.

A Life full of Colors.

Almost everyone
Advised her against.

One Night
Like an adept Performer
She cut her vein
Like a Ribbon.

The color was later washed away
With colorless water
and some cheap towels.

Friday, 8 November 2013


It’s been raining hard
In my Head
Since you left
Like Monsoon
On the shores of my Neurons.

Since then
My Eyes are my water gates.


My Skull
My Sky
Where dark clouds rain Memories

As wet

As the tip of your Tongue.

Sunday, 13 October 2013

Cheating Love

It turns
almost everyone
Into a plagiarist.
I too am a plagiarist in love.

“I Love You”
“I Love You too” 

Tuesday, 8 October 2013

Suicide Note

What’ll happen that day?
I tremble.
I Fear.

The Day
When intentionally
On your study table
I leave
All my poems
All of them
Just beside your published paper.

I Fear.
What’ll happen that day?

What if you catch hold of them?
And actually start reading them
Page by page
 One by one
While I am away
Collecting metaphors in Jhelum.

I Fear
What’ll happen that day?
My love.

You: An Erudite Academician

Me: A Poor Versifier.

Friday, 27 September 2013

An Appetite for Love

I have developed
An appetite for love

In love
I want to turn
The whole valley
Into a paper clip

In love
I want to drink the stars
Eat the moonbeams
And lick the spicy roses

In love
I want to turn this starry night
Into your curled eyelashes
I want to churn all the Chinars
Into a refreshing Kehwah

In love
I want to wriggle your dyed scarf
To doves

In love
I want to sculpt you
Out of dense clouds

In love
I want to turn all truths
Into one simple joke
And give tongue
To all the silences

In love
I want to give memories
A sound mind
So that they don’t fade away

In love
I want to write you
As a Ghazal
Rhyming your breaths to mine

In love
I want to be your loved earrings
Dangling the universe

In love
I want to politicize myself as a rumour

In love
In want to be a character
From One Thousand and One Nights
Accustomed to magic

In love
I want to be a well decorated Tonga
Taking passengers from Dalgate to Nishat
In Old Srinagar

In love
I want to be the sole owner
Of Borges’ Book of Sand

In love
I want to bore you so much
That you fall asleep in my arms

In love
I want to be that rusty dustbin
Often seen
Smelling the garbage
Of torn letters

In love
I want to be a dead mother
Missed deeply by her children

In love
I want to feign sickness
In your castle of care

In love
I want to be a dervish
Lost completely in whirls
Or an Ustad skilled enough
To play with the surs

In love
I realize
Little can be attained through hate
Much lost in anger

In love

I want to pretend you love me

Wednesday, 4 September 2013

My Digital Dreams

And thus were
My Digital Dreams

Because of the Signal of Trust
Being weak
I lost the sublime connection
To the channel of your Love.

I now miss
All the Programs of Hope
All the Soaps of Happiness
Every Sitcom of Tears
And yes
All your
Emotional Ads.

I failed
As a Consumer of Passions.

My soul
An old flickering TV

Beyond repair

Which they keep banging
With their fists of Intellect.


I keep looking for you
In the white noise map
Of my rectangular being.

Life is a low TRP Serial.

Tuesday, 27 August 2013

Pain is a Poet from Kashmir

Well obviously
I snapped

That is because
As an artist
You can’t ignore them
They are all essential readings.


They are all major poets from Kashmir
Their themes
Get in my way.

It’s too hard
For me
Not to allude to them.