Destination wherever (Manzil Kahan)

सुबह की
ख़ामोश रास्तों पर
रोशनी की किरण हूँ में

रात की
सोए हुए अंधेरों की
पहली सुबह हूँ मैं

ख़्वाबों के
अधूरे अल्फ़ाज़ों की
अनकही कहानी हूँ में

सफ़र की
अनजान राहों का
अकेला राही हूँ मैं

मंज़िलों की
पहचान नहीं हैं
शायद पहुँच गया हूँ मैं

Stillness of the deep

In the lake
Laying placid
Lies buried
meanings deep

Calm on the surface
Like a pretending mirror
Reflecting the fake
Hiding the truth beneath

the inquisitive finger
Scratches the surface
In a poke of inquiry
Pierces the flimsy sheath

Ripples give away
the illusion
Distorting the unreal
Revealing the truth we seek

It’s not the blue sky
Or the ochre of the woods
It’s the flow of the water
And the stillness of the deep





मैं ख़ामोश हूँ
मेरी चीख़ों को आवाज़ों की
ज़रूरत नहीं

ख़ामोश अल्फ़ाज़ों को
लफ़्ज़ों की बैसाखियों की
ज़रूरत नहीं

शब्दों में फ़रेब है
खामोशी में नहीं
बंद लबों को
क़समों कि ज़रूरत नहीं

शब्दों में बनावट है
खामोशी में नहीं
दिल की गहराइयों में
मन के बदलते मिज़ाज नहीं

मैं ख़ामोश हूँ
मेरी सचाई को
किसी मंज़ूरी की ज़रूरत नहीं

Nothing but you

Leave everything
that is not you
Leave no traces of you
Not even few

Scrape the edges
Down to the core
Till you are left
With nothing more

Shed the pretence
Shed the pride
Remove the name
leave the identity aside

As we reach
the last crumb
We gnaw away
the senses numb

there in the stillness
when nothing is you
What is left
Is nothing but you

Wings on the wall

She always wondered what it was, that drew her to the inanimate wings etched on the wall.
On that fateful night, on the way back from her office, she was surrounded by the uncouth, lecherous ruffians of the neighbourhood who had been stalking her. As she struggled in the clutches of the evil, she felt helpless and violated as the groping hands pinned her to the wall.
Then in a stroke of a miracle, she started to float. The wings had come alive. She soared in the sky, flying free. Then she turned and dived, going for the kill.

Written in response to 99 Words Story- Floating, hosted by Charli Mills of the carrot ranch


Riding free

She rides the horse
A free spirited steed
Hooves galloping swift
Wings flying wide
Sometimes on the ground
on the lush green meadow
Sometimes in air
On the fluffy white clouds
kicking up the grass
And sometimes the clouds
Bouncing manes
And her flowing hair
Matching their rhythm
Matching the strides
There is a song
That the wind sings
She hears the song
She sings that too
There are no reins
There is nowhere to go
She rides, she flies
Far above the fences
Far above the lanes
there in the winds
She rides free

Sharing lives 18 Jul

Melanie, our gracious host has posed these questions for us this week;


1. In one sentence, how would you sum up the internet?

A web

2. Is true beauty subjective or objective?

Everything is beautiful

3. How many chickens would it take to kill an elephant? (like last week, I threw this one in for lightening things up a bit. There is no ‘right or wrong ‘ answer – just have fun with it).

One angry one

For example, this elephant is very vulnerable to a chicken attack;

4. If your five-year-old self suddenly found themselves inhabiting your current body, what would your five-year-old self do first? 

I already have five year old within. It just slides from my heart to the leg through my veins


What’s an aspect of your personality that you’re grateful for?

I am grateful for what I am.


My buried musical notes

I scribble my work notes
Keeping my guitar aside
My song hangs in the air
As in my daily rut, I slide

The pen writes deep
Impressions go beyond
It takes its toll
Smudges my happy song

I need to pull back
Sit back and relax a little
There is the sand that flows
Through the hour glass so brittle

I pick my guitar
I strum my tune
I have a life to sing
I am not stopping too soon