Rhythmic dust clouds

The faraway drum beats
Raising a rhythmic dust clouds
Under the involuntary foot taps

The happy giggles and joyous laughter
Curling the amused lips
Eyes, giving away the forlorn perhaps

The celebration of togetherness
Marking the festive reunion
Complete with the memories intact

Far away enwrapped in the cocoon of silence
smiling to myself,
Tickled by happy memories
Dawn the realisation that…
Iam with you infact

Enmeshed in the heady spirit
Resonating with the musical notes
Smiling along
With the infectious laughter

Enthralled,
by the faraway drum beats
Oblivious of the rhythmic dust cloud
Under the involuntary foot taps

Unseen, unheard
Yet there…somewhere

Khali haath aaye the, Khali haath jayenge

कौनसा पिटारा लेके जाओगे
क्या क्या पसंद आया है
कितनी लम्बी उम्र है
उसमें कितनी ज़िंदगी है

समेटने में उम्र गुज़ारी है
इन संदूक़ों का क्या होगा
बहुत भारी हो गयी है
इस भोझ का क्या होगा

दुआओं का पिटारा भरना है
खवायिशों का पेट कहाँ भरा है
हाथ ख़ाली रहने वाले हैं
जहां अगले सफ़र पे जाना है

Koshish

किसी ने की कोशिश
दो कदम चलने की
उस नुक्कड़ पर फिर से मिलने की
कोई कदम पहुँचे ही नहीं

किसी ने की कोशिश
लिखे ख़त को पड़ने की
पन्नो पे महके अल्फ़ाज़ समझने की
कुछ ख़त लिफ़ाफ़ों से निकले नहीं

किसी ने की कोशिश
दबी आवाज़ को सुनने की
अनकहे लफ़्ज़ों को समझने की
कुछ शोर अनसुने ही रहे

किसी को सुनाई दिया
किसी से हुई मुलाक़ात
किसी को आया समझ
किसी की नियत ही नहीं

Let’s paint the fence

Fence separates
the inside
From what lies
On the outside

What stays within it’s bound
Or What lies outside
It’s not for the fence
to judge or decide

It stays on the fringe
In touch with either side
Not the one to connect
Only built to divide

It’s one fence
With two sides
One is with the inside
One faces the outside

One side restricts
The other side protects
In its essence
it is meant to bisect

I pick up the brush
Let’s paint the fence
I wonder which side to paint first
From where do I commence

It’s how you see it
From the side you view
It doesn’t belong to either side
It is just a fence

Two stranger eyes

Two eyes meet
Strangers are they both
The gaze stay a bit longer
Each mind sees and knows

Each eye mirroring
the person inside
Both sad and forlorn within
What the clothes failed to hide

No recognition
None of the worldly relations
The fleeting moments,
Were their only connections

In the intersecting moments
Two lives converged
two forlorn eyes connected
No rich no poor

The moments passed
Two Lives separated
Living their own scripts
Strangers once more