The Long Winter

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I found
Leaves shivering in cold,
and showing pattern,
I once traced on your skin…

I found
sky vomiting gold,
searching for tree,
under which we had our first kiss…

I found wind blowing
just to float me away
from today to yesterday…
when your fragrance used to linger on me…

They all reminded me,
how winter once used to be…
of time when nothing cold was painful,
since warmth of your breaths surrounded me…

Even moon used to bow
in an alley we used to meet in…
where I touched your hands first..
stars kissed your feet.

But this is not the winter
in which we weaved our dreams…

We’ve slipped far far away
from the mirror – our axis…
we no longer know what
kept our heart racing…

I keep looking for you,
in my present,
knowing I buried you,
out in the world for centuries
shutting myself in a coffin
holding sands of a last spring.

I found
sand mixing with the storm,
unraveling my tombstone,
on which you said once,
“You’ll never forgive me!”

Now, I find stars too,
complaining to me…
for I don’t share with them anymore,
what I wished for our destiny.

couple_snow_rain_love[1]

– Dedicated to lovers unaware of long stretches of glacial boundaries that often grow in between, post beautiful snowfall they dance in…

Image Credits:
1. Glacier_person_cold_alaska (wallpaperscraft.com)
2. Couple_snow_rain_love (hdwallpapers.im)

The Immersion

http://thecreatorsproject.vice.com/blog/preview-a-giant-underwater-sculpture

In times, after a day tiring,
and in nights without rest…
I seek to sit beside you in silence,
to receive your warmth,
like you’re a fire lit beside camp,
and I am a vagabond, tired
of roaming in wild darkness.

I am inclined to fall into your lap,
to have some moments of rest,
like you’re a ground sacred,
and I am a leaf, that has
just parted from wreath.

I burn to slip into your hands,
to know what is it to be contained,
like you’re a goblet of rejuvenation,
and I, mere an ash – scattered,
from the glowing mountains.

I ache to immerse in your embrace,
to find how pain vanishes with grace,
like you’re a moon casting – a quilt of spells,
and I am a moth howling,
in lust of mystic flame.

I yearn to flow my pulse to your heart-beats,
to feel what’s rising and what’s drowning,
like you’re a river of passion scintillating,
and I, mere a stone split
from rocks eroded.

I wish to submerge inside your breaths,
to forget any other world that exists,
like you’re a portal to universe another,
and I, a war-ship, that long sought
exile from wars and battles.

I desire to sink my world in you,
in craving to earn, color of your hue.
Like you’re the star, arose
to inspire luminescence…
and I am among those
trifling forever in shadows…

No matter when you look,
you’ll find me longing for this essence.
Since,
I am too tired of whole world around
lingering their eyes on me
seeking some complacence.
While, all I strive is to settle
in your arms, as a meaningless.

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– Dedicated to the only beloved who can immerse a lover totally…

Image Credits:

  1. “Ocean Atlas – Created by Jason deCaires Taylor” – Source: thecreatorsproject.vice.com
  2. “Christ of the Abyss – Created by Guido Galletti” – Source: viralnova.com

Poet 101

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They say,
poets don’t have a future…
Just a dream of it.

Eyes set on clouds of present,
messed hair and wrinkled clothes,
for moisture just dried off them,
post farewell of last rainfall.

Books drunken -ragged gown,
letters in pockets, scattered
now on the golden browns,
as frozen fragrance of dry flower
reeks from cold palms.

A keep situated
far from the madding crowd,
as green carpet lavished the floor;
creeks in the dry pastel colors,
this painting,
that hangs beside the door.

Hands tied together
like waves with unbreakable bond.
And hugs like sun kissing an ocean
right before it drowns.
Bidding adieu, salty lips whisper,
“see you, again”, to love just found.

Birds dancing on
the walls of a vacant house,
sporting flags of invitation
boasting subliminal colorful town.
Yet, alleys heading towards this palace,
has intersections with echoing sound,
from closets full of nostalgia,
and empty swings – with whom
the air plays around.

Feet sunk in a dense pit,
body looking like a sculpture
just discovered out of the pyramid.
As sweat married sand particles,
while eyes wandered in wilderness,
hunting for the oasis.

Part miles and decades
from the crimson fountain
holding water that mirrors the soul.
Yet, taste of a passionate kiss,
of an evening of dreams,
still circling the elixir in mouth.

Days getting shortened
painting the golden crowns,
and nights growing longer,
dressed in the silver gowns.
Some tunes contemporary
being played in welcoming halls,
but lips humming
lines of a nostalgic song…

Wheels turning clock-wise
on long empty roads,
while heads resting on back-seats,
tilting a time on slope…
A journey measured in stars crossed,
for those one left behind,
or ones that would come forth…

They say, poets, often don’t have a future…
Just a dream of it.
And perhaps, words a few
to paint on the weary walls…

Desertalone2[1]

– Dedicated to the spirit of the poets.

Image Credits:
1 – Stock image/ wallpaper.
2 – Cover picture – Film: The Prophecy at Rome

The Fleeting Star

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I see you in moon’s,
I see you in star’s light,
as their glimmer blankets
the roads, homes, valleys
and ceaseless sky…
Reciprocating the eyes
seeking to extinguish darkness with light
“I am yours, just –
slip your fingers into mine…”

I see you in waves
I see you in tides,
as they run across the miles
and dance on bed of sea
infinite…
Reciprocating to the wind
that takes them into an arm
“I am yours, just –
slip your fingers into mine…”

I see you in rains,
I see you in cloud’s sigh,
that falls across the land
and holds under its spell
the magic infinite…
Reciprocating to the skies
that caresses them tight
“I am yours, just –
slip your fingers into mine…”

I see you in lows,
I see you in highs,
the ranges that are spread
atop the river’s spine,
as far as they see, the naked eyes…
Reciprocating to the sight
that chases it beyond all lines
“I am yours, just –
slip your fingers into mine…”

I see you in dreams,
I see you in rhymes,
those moments that carry
the poems sublime, with which
you compose symphony of life.
Reciprocating each heart beat,
tracing silage, for last location and sign,
“I am yours, just –
slip your fingers into mine…”

But you’re not here… my love,
you’re in my mind,
as a silhouette left
after the Sun has drowned.
– A light, that lingers,
even after star has ventured
far away.

In each moment that
I come closer,
I try to make you mine…
But you slip…
from my embrace
like I am trying to hold
a water or sand
too tight…

You’re a happiness that I find,
amidst a time when
one moment lapses onto another…
right at those intersections
where one line meets the other
to complete a circle.
And as much as I want
that moment to last,
I still find myself in void
after I loose your trail…
fortunately often
with moist on my lips to tell,
infinite did kiss the finite.

rain_ot_ocean_beach[1]

– Dedicated to those infinities that every finite wants to hold on to, for as long as possible…

Image Credits:
1. Beach Photography – wallpaper (webneel.com)
2. Ocean Rain – Stock wallpaper

Paper Boats

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One day I saw,
a person from my window.
A man double my age,
walking down an opposite lane,
wearing a black rain coat,
amidst the hot day’s temp…

He stood beside a pole,
started looking down a road…
Perhaps, he was waiting for
someone to be there,
or may be, it’s where
his ride was to stop.

Day after day, I saw him
repeating all the same,
came no ride to take him,
nor came any friend.
I wondered what was it about
that made him stick
to a single frame.

And then one day he broke
his pattern all same…
He did show up to be there,
but could no longer stand.
He sat there still,
till an eve’s end,
even when his body started
showing signs of pain.

What would mount up
I wondered,
to such a resilience.
Though, I lived my life
across the docks,
yet never saw any person
pulling an act like that…

Like a novice, who spent
majority of his life at pier,
watching boats all day,
making to and forth in circles…
It was hard to see a man,
not showing pedigree of passengers,
but instead a sign of a carriage.

One day he didn’t budge
from its posture,
he’s still as a milestone,
for the whole long day…
Curious, I ventured close,
to see if he’s doing well,
I found him having, apparently
his last few breaths…

He did notice my presence
in his surrounding, and
hinted me to give him a hand.
He pulled me closer to self,
with little energy he had left.
And uttered few words in my ear,
that hardly made any sense.

I saw smile in his eyes,
like a glittering silver fountain,
as if, of a soldier that has won
all fights, all the battles…
Till I saw that shine began
to gradually faint,
before I could register
it was a parting stance.

As he died, I felt,
I had lost a friend,
yet I reflected, I knew nothing
much about that man.
In few moments, I noticed
he had something
enclosed in his hands,
A paper in his fists,
something tightly clenched.

It was a letter written,
perhaps, with a red fountain:
“I’ll be there my love, with you,
for we have to follow what
we weaved,
and dance once again in a rain
that made us fall for each other
at drizzling…
I know you’ll be waiting!”

I recalled, I used to think,
one day I would become
an architect of a vessel,
that may offer wanderer
a ride to the destined place.
Little did I feel before
that man was a vessel too
for a soul’s fate.

It was then, I realized,
he waited for the beloved,
like a kid,
who after creating a paper boat,
drops it into a puddle of water –
standing still after the rain,
looking out for the wind,
wishing it to be sailed…

How few of us ever know
that a promise, the journey,
matters more
than an eventual place.
That it’s attempts that make us
know the love’s true strength.

Suddenly, sky started to cry,
like it was too attending a funeral.
I don’t know whether it was
to greet or to bid him farewell.
Right with noise of first thunder,
his last words started to make sense…
“Dream, create, rejoice…
Don’t leave stones unturned!”

together_by_arefin03-d7xpk7r[1]

– Dedicated to my maternal grand dad: Mr. Sadruddin Sohani (who passed away two days ago, loosing his fight with Cancer, but winning a war called “life” – by spending it like a King, till the very last moment).

Image Credits:
1. ‘The Harbour’ by Aminah Tasleem.
2. ‘Together’ by Arefin03 (Deviantart).

Crossing the eyes, what gaze expresses, I seem to write (Chehray Parhta Aakhien Likhta Rehta Hoon)

– Only rendition of this excellent ghazal I found on internet is one performed by Ustad Hamid Ali Khan.
(For copyright reasons, I haven’t found nor was allowed to upload it on Soundcloud).

Translation:

Crossing the eyes, what
gaze expresses, I seem to write
For all I see more, the lesser
for senses, I seem to write…

All carriages of souls seem to
resemble ancient trees…
In place of an embrace, notion
of branches, I seem to write…

All manners of composing a
poem have become lost on me,
Mere broken rhymes and parched
lines, I seem to write…

What else would I rather do
in a distance from you…
On your name lengthy fantasy
scriptures, I seem to write.

Silhouettes of your locks,
keep me drowned in dreaming.
In praise of golden hues,
silver glimmers, I seem to write.

In crimson fragrant journey
to reach milestones of love…
Walls of piety traditions and
societal customs, I seem to write.

After meeting you, I’ll sure
reiterate you, state of the sky.
In nights of our separation,
new stars, I seem to write.

Dry flowers, wet letters, few poems
for wounds of separation,
For all gifts you bestowed,
pleasant appraisals, I seem to write.

Yet, eyes holding rivers at bay,
appear to keep smiling…
Till in name of beloved, Mohsin,
new sonnets, I seem to write.

– Dedicated to writers, that keep returning to one theme again and again because they haven’t expressed enough for it…

Chehray parhta ankhen likhta rehta hun,
Main bhi kesi baten likhta rehta hun

Sare jisam darakhton jese lagtay hain,
Or bahon ko shakhen likhta rehta hun

Tujhko khaat likhnay k tewar bhool gae,
Aarhi tirchi satrain likhta rehta hun

Tere hijar main or mujhe kya karna ha,
Tere naam kitabain likhta rehta hun

Teri zulf k saye dhiyaan main rehtay hain,
Main subhon ko shamain likhta rehta hun

Apne piyar k phool mehakti rahon main,
Logon ki dewaren likhta rehta hun

Tujhse mil kar sare dukh dohraon ga,
Hijar ki sari batain likhta rehta hun

Sookhay phol kitaben zakham judai k,
Teri sab soghaten likhta rehta hun

Uski bheegi palken hansti rehti hain,
Mohsin jab tak ghazlen likhta rehta hun.

– Original poem by renowned Pakistani poet: Mohsin Naqvi

چہرے پڑھتا آنکھیں لکھتا رہتا ہو۔۔
میں بھی کیسی باتیں لکھتا رہتا ہوں۔۔

سارے جسم درختوں جیسے لگتے ہیں
اور بانہوں کو شاخیں لکھتا رہتا ہوں۔۔

مجھ کو خط لکھنے کے تیور بھول گئے
آڑی ترچھی سطریں لکھتا رہتا ہوں۔۔

تیرے ہجر میں اور مجھے کیا کرنا ہے؟
تیرے نام کتابیں لکھتا رہتا ہوں۔۔

تیری ذُلف کے سائے دھیان میں رہتے ہیں
میں صُبحوں کی شامیں لکھتا رہتا ہوں۔۔

اپنے پیار کی پھول مہکتی راہوں میں
لوگوں کی دیواریں لکھتا رہتا ہوں۔۔

تجھ سے مل کر سارے دکھ دہراؤں گا
ہجر کی ساری باتیں لکھتا رہتا ہوں۔۔

سوکھے پھول، کتابیں، زخم جدائی کے
تیری سب سوغاتیں لکھتا رہتا ہوں۔۔

اس کی بھیگی پلکیں ہنستی رہتی ہیں
محسن جب تک غزلیں لکھتا رہتا ہوں۔۔

محسن نقوی

The ruse I became for thee

This poem is a response to Miss Aima Jamal‘s excellent composition: “The Person I could Never be“.

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As placid as it looked to thee,
each piece of mine emitted perplexity,
for a puzzle you left unsolved,
waited too long for your touch
to sample its destiny…

As composed as it found to thee,
each wall was at verge of rupturing,
for a house you abandoned,
hosted tornadoes and storms,
keeping doors open in your waiting.

As polite as it sounded to thee,
each pulse of mine echoed calamity,
for a heart you composed songs for,
allowed clamor to chord in,
for your voice to appear stealthily.

As accustomed as it occurred to thee,
each part of mine reeked toxicity,
for a garden you left attending,
played with wild to become forest,
hoping, you may come hunting.

As calm as it seemed to thee,
each wave of mine contained a sea,
for an ocean you left restless,
kissed the shore just to know,
your whereabouts daily…

As eloquent as it read to thee,
each letter of mine struggled to breath,
for a poem you left incomplete,
soaked – ink of entire universe, yet
for you remained its hem – arid.

As warm and kind as it felt to thee,
each pore in my body kept barbarity,
for a dessert you made a drizzle in,
kept mirage of hope persisted,
knowing, one day you may observe
the ruse I became for thee…

NICHOLAS HOULT stars in WARM BODIES Ph: Jonathan Wenk © 2011 Summit Entertainment, LLC.  All rights reserved.

– Dedicated to the dear beloved with whom lover is, as much in love as in war…

Photo Credits:

1- Nicholas Hoult – Screencap from film ‘X Men – First Class’
2- Nicholas Hoult – Screencap from film ‘Warm Bodies’