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Loosing it all... But not to Covid in 2020

How complex can pain be? How multi layered can a deep shock be? ... How would you analyse the psychology behind loss... How can we go behind the curtains and erase few chaotic and cathartic scenes and reminiscences of a day we wish to forget ... is it possible, to tame the mind a veritable - yet veiled monster? Or are we as humans - destined to drift in utter helplessness from canoe to canoe, enduring the pain that any person or nameless animal once born must endure... never rid of the cycling from being born to the loss of death and enduring its never questioned permanence... Or is death and tragedy - a small cortex in the brain activated by shock and then numbed by time.. or a series of alternative realities suggested by well meaning but less affected others... Is life a never ending passage of time sewn together with the same smiling faces, who can leave us at any time... leaving us to question our mortality or birth.. and seek refuge in the other world, to continue to liv
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Buland Khayal

धूप सी पड़ी तो कमज़ोर पड़ गए वह बुलंद ख्याल बेमाहॉल पड़ गए बंद कमरे में रौशनी से चिलमिला गए इन रातों की शायरी से जगमगा गए शहरयार ने जो समां बंधा साहिल में बह गए। शहरों की हड़बड़ी में घुल के रह गए इस रात का जलज़ा ओढ़ा तो नहीं था सुबह की नर्मियों में मोमबत्तियों से बह गए
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Work from home

मोहर को स्याही मिल जाये  शोहर को दिलकशी  ज़िन्दगी में इससे यादगार कोई समां नहीं  क्यों चंद्र बिंदु में चंद्र खिलता है ? क्यों मुकम्मल जहाँ नहीं मिलता है ? किसी का वास्ता हो तो... किसी की खबर नहीं  खबर नहीं  शब् में गुलाब खिल जायेंगे  रातों रातों ख़िताब मिल जायेंगे  पर जब तुम्हे ढूंढा  तिनके तिनके को तुम्हारी खबर नहीं खबर नहीं  विश्वास न करें, तकल्लुफ में ना पड़ें  हमें मुलाकात का सबर नहीं, सबर नहीं   
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Taj Majal Digital Edit

आज फिर पीले फूल लेके आयी हो तुम माना मोहब्बत नहीं मुमकिन, पर दिलकशी तो है उम्र नहीं  है अब तुम्हारी या मेरी आशिकी तो है, पर आशिकी तो है पर्दानशीं ये चेहरा तुम्हारा सलाम ऐ इश्क़ ये रुतबा तुम्हारा स्याही काली करने की नौबत आ गयी दिल को छुआ जब ये नगमा तुम्हारा क्या करें धीरे धीरे क्या कहें धीरे धीरे बन रहा सा तो है ताजमहल हमारा
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Love gotten cold...

Friendships can wither, Coffee can grown cold. Neither of us can grow younger, neither of us old. Ink can dry up, nibs can break. Messages can become shorter, stories untold. Heart beats can be quietened. Reflex bottled down. Words don't help when memories grow mold. No flight can take you to your dream destination, Life is unfair - we have no hold.
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Onion society

Is humanity becoming more perfect by choice? Or are we becoming slaves to algorithm driven recommendation engines which our own employers are creating. Are relationships an outcome of our true minds or a social by-product to fill the revenue graphs of few chosen corporate companies.  Are we being driven to different revenue streams- like goats to an abattoir? – some of us to a perfect picture of youth, some to a new mid-life re-invention, some to understanding life and its purpose, and yet others to the path of being: super humans. Super humans- without flaws, with perfect relationships, perfect manicured nails, knowledge about each and every “bit and byte” of the universe and Fit bit and i watches to flash diet and fitness regimens. Whatever is your concern/or shortcoming – social media will hypnotize you towards it. Big daddy’s like google are actually reverse engineering our minds, suggesting, cross-validating, providing solutions to questions that never existed, se
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Forgetting to forget

Falling down the shaft of regret. Activating memories, stories sublet. One reason to another, one season to the other. One cobweb has faded, another one to embed. Charcoal are my eyes, my lips parched dry. Fury and ferocity, the feelings I bed. Questions like crumbs follow my trail. Forget for a moment, but a new regret. Blizzards of artifacts, clouded facts, some convincing, some hard to get. Clinical perfection, exposed reels, beauty in extremes, ripped seams. Powder is my snow, always clouded, rain and sleet, my vision shrouded. Walk two steps, you become unknown, every night - every tone, a sonnet I have read. Moving on – a mountain approached, Rubik cubes ---twisted prose. Spider logic, frozen words, sheets of questions, remember or forget.
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Priya - Winters in Japan

Priya- When nightfall came today; I touched your heart. A tear of delight, I have shed for you tonight. To the vivid happy memories, you have captured my heart ‘right’.  When weathers grew gloomy you were my companion, I miss you now without you, there will be no rain this season.  Expressions – your’s were vivid, your life - my journey finite.  But now the moon has disappeared and taken with you – its light. The sun will rise tomorrow but there will be no you to hold.  An empty lap – I will cradle, my hands in prayer fold. Konika memories rising, no reel to develop now. No crowd, no audiences, no manual to deal with the “how”. A pain to further conceal, mightier than the bees I reap. Relationships so tender, shards the heart will feel. Bestow god’s choicest blessings, as I have a soul to give. Sweetest than the sweat pea’s fragrance, open heaven’s gates for her to live.
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रंजिश ए काश्मीर

रंजिश ए काश्मीर हम ने नहीं कहा मिलना नहीं होगा रंजिश होगी रहेगी , मगर पर्दा होगा आखिरी समय तक अंजाम नहीं मिलता कहीं खोया हुआ नाम नहीं मिलता समय सरपट दौड़ा खड़े रहे हम या फिर बारिश हो रही थी थमे रहे हम बढे नहीं आगे - मगर तुम्हे देखा कब कहीं मुलाकात लिखी थी यही यक़ीन से सोचा पर हक़ीक़त का ज़ुल्म अलग ही था आका बदल दिया मन को , फज़ल है ये भांपा अदालत में खड़े थे मुकदमा लड़ रहे थे भनक भी न थी ख़तम हो गयी कारवाही अपने आप को लाख दी दुहाई पर मिटटी में जो दबा दिया जाता है वह कभी उभर नहीं आता "वफ़ात" की कोई हद नहीं होती जलाज़े का कोई इल्म नहीं आता 
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