The Castaway.

Yes:There were they,
just sailing through,
a reflection ,a flare,
a war-dance away.
They:bit players, strumming
 a rhapsody of faith,
a litany of loss,
and,the dirge
of  a doleful giving -in.
And I ,
a bare-clad lad,
eyes welling over,
turned, lonely, inwards,
a real-life Crusoe,
said `yes' to my island,
feeding brooding swallows,
and weary,
just waved them away....

The Sea-shore

Floating far ,far above
the good-bye moment,
looking, longing ,
at retracting waters
of receding dreams ,
I smile.....sand in my shoes:
Take in the splashy spray,
the flume of colours,
the beading bubbles,
the empty sea-shell--
now a promise----
of a virginal pearl,
and ,bending,
lovingly trace
the soft contours
of an unwashed name........

बस

कभी कभी मुझे लगता है कि बस जी भी चुकें ......

खत्म हों यह सिलसिले रूठ जाने के
निपट लें दास्ताने फिर मनाने की
किसी आगोश में दम भर सिमटने की तड़प
रुख -ए-रोशन के आईने में संवर जाने की ;
खत्म हो मेरी मीना,जाम हों खाली
सब्र हो मुझे अपनी अदम सी प्यास के साथ
न कोई नज़र , न नज़र  में नज़ारे ही हसीं
न आज गुज़रे मेरा आज कल की आस के साथ;
खत्म हो यह स्याही ,सूख जाए कलम
न हाथ जुम्बिद ,न लब पे आह सी हो
न कोई देख सके फिर अजब सी चाहत से
न अंधेरों से नुमाया इक नई राह सी हो ;

कभी कभी मुझे लगता है कि बस जी भी चुकें.....

Between wake and sleep....

Would that I ,
in an apocalyptic
waking of the self,
wondering, rub my eyes,
erase crow's feet,
un-furrow the frowns,
straighten some smiles,
banish ghosts of yesteryears,
touch her eye-lids
to wish her a dream ?
And will I then,
quietly skulk away,
back and beyond,
to the darkling abyss
of a Hadian incubus
where, like it or not,
a vermillion dot
looks so much like
a bullet's red full stop ?

Glass Houses

Venturing beyond
the somnolent promises
of twined fingers,
a head on the shoulder,
a sleep....softly knit
in yarns of togetherness ,
and pregnant hopes
of shared lives,
he stopped: glances darting,
saw cadavers of faith,
bodies of love,
a bloodied kaleidoscope,
reflected , numerous, in
shards of shattered homes.
And, smiling thru' tears,
raw and wrenched,
step over hesitant step
walked on.....a stymied
victor of the rout ,
a hero of chaos.

Again....!

In the time-dissolving
everness of the Walk,
aching for a half-way house,
a heart -warmed hearth,
a sheltering eye-lash,
I heard a daring,
a seductive summon,
a whisper from the past...
And, teetering, on the brink
of bliss,on the gooseflesh
of caring caresses,I,
a spy of Reason,
reckoned the `Yes' of surrender,
the` No' of prudence,
and retreating....softly tapped
a self-willed knock
on the door of unhappiness.

Stupid Cupid..!!

Reverent, forsooth,
before the shrine of love,
this old fond heart,
a believer still,
in pending embraces,
soft-clenched  vows,
in ambrosial sweetness
and  gallant bows.
Right there: there she was,
beautiful as a blush, wire-drawn,
sunshines lambent in her hair,
ranged, rainbow like,
against the palette,
of a purple sky.
Rooted, agape, stood I,
her look, ah..! unrolled
the curled leaf of my life,
promised another April,
a second milky-way,
then.... turning slowly,
with knowing  steps,
and forlorn ,walked away...

Returning Melodies

Alone, aloof,
standing on the margins
of a love-song,
a stream of sonorous wavelets
softly soothing my ears;
a truth in the beat of each refrain,
a lie in the echo of every note,
point and counterpoint,
wish and fear, a balance
of delicate contraries;
a temptress: beckoning me,
to splash in its icy wake
to cuddle in its warm embrace
and be whole again...
And I, now a careful coward,
wary of lingering melodies,
dithering, paused awhile,
allowed, for once,
for this one day
the music-flood to swell,
sang, "Ah well, what the hell..!"
and let myself be swept
far, far, far away...

If you meet her....

If you meet her,
marooned on the cusp
of love and wisdom,
hatred and forgiveness,
clutching and letting go,
minus the sinful white ,
beyond  the pious black,
in varying hues of grey.........
And ,if you meet her,
when heralds of night
confront couriers of the day ,
her eyes a-smoulder,
melting green ,a foliant blaze,
face a-wash,cadent tears,
quenching miles of thirst,
and lips , a quivering query........
Wouldya please,
ever so tenderly,
take that hand,
turn the palm upward
and softly
trace the Life Line....?