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Do I call
a spade a spade
or knaw fruitlessly
at eternity’s gate?
Joy is fleeting
Sorrow stands still
The mind mocks the mind
as I look out the window sill
Want an irony?
Then wonder what
these walls are for
to keep the inside in or the outside out
the barbed wired fences
my prickled tenses
are all but a fantasy
for I’m locked in, the world locked out
in a mirage of empty seas
At length, they want to fly away
my birds of sanity
but when they re free my mind begins to see
how the cage was a godsend!
Empty roads beckon
they were taken long before
and are now forgotten
Now I take a turn to walk some more
I ran through perils
dangers looking me in the face
I left my home to fly
To finish every race
I ran and ran till my breath caught me
and told my life to slow down
and then I sat down finally
and took a look around
When did these flowers bloom
they were still small petals when I’d passed by
When did the sky grow dark
It was always sunshine breezing by
When did I lose you
walking by me
When did you bid your goodbye
and why did I fail to feel?
So to not feel
I keep running towards my destiny
Only once I reach there I realize
This was where I started my journey.
He sits
in an open grave
untouched
his innocence sometimes sinfully craves
a morbid sense of love
who’d love him
if not her
the darkness of a hidden sky
she, who lives with a shadow
and a tear in the corner of her eye
He sits
perched on a grave
waiting
for the dismal joy
that comes in pain
who’d love him
if not her
the death of sound
she, who lives in silences
and for unknown music she dances
She is the unknown lover
a shroud, veil of secrets
the start of all of life’s mysteries
and the end of bleeding regrets..

Broken pieces of glass
an untouched wrist
tears running wrought
and causing a blinding mist
The wind blew in
and shattered it all
and with all this mess
this room’s suddenly too small
But as the sun shines through
the glasses shine
through all this sorrow
this light seems mine
Too many years I have lived
with no knowledge of light
with only strength of my trusted senses
and this mind’s might
So now when the good times dawn
and the light shimmers past
I smile and wonder
Was ti just the wind that broke the glass?

The voices in my head
ain’t voices anymore
they’re vacant souls
begging me to let them go
An empty house
beyond an empty yard
uneaten dinners
and unread cards
Stare back at me
in a lost battle of perseverence
They wouldn’t just let it rain or snow
The voices in my head
wouldn’t just let me go
Winds of the heavenly gods,
Come to Thee, My Sire
To Thee, they make known the world
Through Thee, they come to earth
This unyielding heart
Doeth skip a mortal beat
When Thy feet bless the ground
Or Thy breath doeth oblige the air
The world may claim me mad
But Thy mind will save mine
It will raise me from my death
For my death is equally Thine
Mirrors, don’t lie, Oh sire!
And mine doeth tell the truth
Thou, my reflection, my sire
Art my only borne fruit
She was waiting at the bus stop at Sarai, it had been more than a year since…and yet she could see it all like it had happened yesterday.
“Uncle jee..! Ruko tero bag gir gayo hai, le lo !” he had yelled, she had seen him before, the kid. He used to come by there everyday with his elder brother. As the bikers sped past, she was thinking about how careless they are, to be leaving a bag like this. The very next second there was a sound, and her ears went numb. For a moment all was silent and then…the screaming, she was still standing at the bus stand as others were rushing towards the blast site to help. But there was no one alive. That boy was dead. All was black at first, and then she saw the blood. She wasn’t hurt but she was there. She had seen it happen.
It had taken her three months to be able to walk through that market alone again and today, one year later she was still eyeing the corners. People were walking down the street, talking, smiling as if nothing had happened. But Kiran was scared, she looked around nervously as she reached the electronics shop, looking for unattended objects, staring at every biker who went past. Her heart stopped every time a kid burst a cracker, it’s Diwali, but this time of a different kind, in this one children don’t die. And then she saw it, right in front of the corner sweet shop, a man wearing black clothes, he kept the wrapped up box at the counter of the shop and was about to start a bike. She walked past him slowly, watching every move he made, he looked around 20 and had an old bike. He didn’t remove his helmet and she could only see his eyes. He seemed familiar. A possible terrorist, she thought, maybe I saw him at the Aulia Masjid someday, isn’t that where they all come from? She was panicking now, It won’t blow up as long as he is here, she convinced herself, it’ll only blow up once he leaves. And I won’t let that happen.
She started searching for her cell phone to call the police, but she had to do it slowly because if he found out he might run away. Suddenly, he looked up and saw her staring at him. She was caught! He’ll run away leaving the bomb! She looked around at the market and suddenly it seemed more crowded than usual. A woman walking with her baby, and an old uncle buying groceries. Oh My God! So many people, all dead. She looked back at the shop and saw the man coming towards her, the bag in his hand. She froze, a suicide bomber, perhaps? She fumbled in her purse as fast as she could. Her eyes were filled with terror as the man crossed the road and came towards her. He was opening the bag! As she took out her cell phone and began to dial, she could already hear the blast in her head.
He opened the box, peered down at her with a big smile and said, “Happy Diwali, Didi”
She looked up dazed and with a sigh of relief replied, “Thanks, Zahir”.
It’s staring back at me
my broken mirror
lost in the corners
it stares mocking me
laughing, swearing , jeering, sneering
who is that little girl
blood in her hands
staring back at me
would death come by
through broken glass?
she looks around and laughs
no one saw her
as she dragged the knife
and killed
it’s cold now
the knife
the blood has dried
and she’s laughing…
they would never know
for they would cry
for the little girl
whom he hurt and hurt bad
they would cry
at the twisted story
the blood all around
and the gruesome mystery
at length it would come
my sin
it would come back to me
and I would boast of the life I had
and laugh about the day I killed my dad.