Tuesday, July 27, 2010


And then, there are women who,
When life tires them out,
Realize their modest dreams, and
Sit down to write verses.

Now Playing:: Iktara............Wake up Sid

Saturday, July 24, 2010


When mothers die,
They leave the daughters pregnant.
When fathers die,
They leave the sons with child.

Is it true?
I ask my auld friend
Of auld times.

That’s the only sign you
Can recognize, he says.
Why go to the river, when
Even the well reflects the sky?

What a pretty domestic scene!
One grows into the other just so soon!

Now Playing:: Yaad.............Shehzad Roy

Tuesday, July 20, 2010


On lazy summer afternoons when the tall casuarinas
Haunt my vacant daydreams, the ancient mango tree
In the yard sits brooding at the end of the dream,
Slowly spreading its boughs, like a spider’s gossamer
Into the lost hours of time. How easy it is to ignore the tree
And continue with my dream! But not today! Why is it,
That today, the stillness of its leaves scream of a woman
Who had once asked for blood to wash her grief? Why is it,
That today, I see that woman soaking her black density in
Streams of red, and her eyes humming in happiness like
Beloveds do at the sight of roses? Why is it, that today,
The look in her eyes makes me imagine, the lonely
Meanderings of the roots, coiled and twisted in the deep
Darkness… desperately grappling with the earth, so that
The boughs above could bear some fruit, and crowd
It for a season, for a sacrament?

Now Playing:: Badi dheere jali...........Ishqiya

Wednesday, July 14, 2010


It does not end there. Between dreaming and waking, I
Recall a name, perhaps even a face, and a voice that had
Once screamed, “ugly”! How many years ago was that?
Nine? Ten? Recent? I don’t remember. But now, lying at
The brink of sleep, I recall, I recall being called “ugly”!
When did the dream catch up? It’s hard to recollect.
If life rejects, would not death be kind? Maybe not.
Maggots and ants; would they mind feeding on an ugly
Sodium reeking body? When was it, that I last saw them?
Saw them, feasting on the distended carcasses of mute
Toads, whose fat bellies I had ripped apart for the sake of
Insignificant grades. But mother says Hindus burn
Their dead! Oh! Let me save some face mother. Fling
A handful of earth on me when I’m dead. Let the
Scavengers finish it off in a silent darkness, let not
People avert their eyes and reject me, even in death…

Now Playing:: Tu jaane na..............Atif