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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.

Tuesday, 20 August 2013

Encyclopedia of Grief

My local Encyclopedia of Grief
And mourning
Is not arranged alphabetically
Grief has an illiterate heart.

Filled with
Incomprehensible Sorrow
Under disparate entries
It has you on its front cover…

My Grief is published every day.

Sunday, 18 August 2013

Read Me A Poem

Read me one of your poems
She requests

No! No!
That is not a good idea
I reply

Let me instead read you a poem
I once read
Of an unpublished poet

I don’t exactly remember
The name of the poet

Crisp and short
It goes like this

In the middle of a poem
A feeling burns
Its ashes stick to paper
Like alphabets
Clinging to one another
In love

Sorry I forgot

That’s ok

I got it

Like alphabets
Clinging to one another
In love

Someone reads the poem
To someone
Forgets the main part

The feeling dulls
Words fall off
In a whole new feeling

New ashes


Oh! that is a great poem
I really like those images
She says

I love it too

The whole poem falls off

And disappears

Friday, 16 August 2013


Don’t you remember the day
My love!
When death
Like Manna Salwa

Don’t you remember
When you tasted
A petal
Of the Red Rose
On your naked tongue
And said
“It’s Oˉ”

Don’t you even remember
That old starry night
When you looked at me
With unforeseen suspicion
And said,
“God is spying on us”

If you don’t remember any of this
Any of this…
My love
What made you say,

“We should start our love afresh”

Sunday, 11 August 2013

Recipe for Grief

Ripe Memories
Chopped Promises
Salty Tears
Profound Expectations
Fiery Nostalgia

Soak one gram of ripe memories
In two cups of salty tears.
After some time
Put it in the frying pan of your feelings.
Add a half kilogram of expectations (crush them fully)
Now add some chopped promises
Make a thick paste out of it.
Sprinkle some nostalgia over it.
Hea(r)t it a bit.

For sometime 
Put it
In your cold mind.


Grief is ready.

To make the most out of it
Enjoy it alone
In the corner of your body.

PS: Grief is a perfect healthy food for those suffering from love.*

*Conditions apply

Wednesday, 7 August 2013

Geography of Heart

by mountainous memories
Through which runs
A river of Hope.

my love,
is a Valley.

Sunday, 4 August 2013

Imperial Love

Of a nature foreign
Your Love was.

Your route
My Sea of tears.

The Moon of your splendour
Never set upon me.

With religious rumours
You established yourself
In me.

Your imperial eyes:
My heart - a Colony.

It distorted everything
 I possessed

My Indigenous Memory.
My Empire of Thoughts.
My History of Desires.
My Culture of Silence.
My Language of Love.

After years of oblivion
My Language writes back
To Your Imperial Love
With an urgent zeal

“Come back
distort me all over again”