The sun
hides in vain
Unaware
of its orange stain
Into darkness
it stoops low
Alas betrayed
by the loony glow
Its just
an intervening night
for the illuminate
It is to shine bright
Reluctance and doubts
the light dispels
the mirror introduces
the light to itself
The rise is seen
Shining on the morning dew
Vibrant red
in the morning new
Aware
Realised
Resplendent
shining bright
within and outside
Under the white blanket
under the starry skies
The frozen twig
in the frost it lies
drop of the dying tree
frozen dry of the life sap
Yet carrying the snow
on its selfless back
Awaiting the inevitable end,
trampled by an unknowing boot
Splintering into many
into the dust and soot
Seeping into the melting ice
flowing into the soil
Carrying its essence,
in its last altruistic toil
Deep in the soil
it waits for the new summer
the seed of the new tree
Curled in a wintery slumber
Continuous and resplendent
the circle of life strives
under the white blanket
in the frost it lies
Each box ticked
Whew!! the work is done.
the day draws to an end
and we count it as one.
Rising again with the sun
Unwilling to start the next count
Yet eager to finishing this one
boxes to be ticked, once again mount
Each count ends in a week,
quitely into a month, the week crept
I celeberate the birth one more time
Counting the many nights I have slept
Counting the nights was easy,
For the sleeping part I was sure.
Did I wake up or just sleep walked?
Of the day I was not sure.
On the moving tread I walked
counting the steps and time,
Achievements recorded on the counter
Celeberations for with every chime
I ran and walked
moving constantly on the set pace
Tired and exhausted,
yet competing the static race
In this race, I am running.
finish line is everyone’s dread
Yet in the race
I run faster instead.
I know I have another half to live
For doing all the things I wish
there will be time to live my life
But now, I have this day to finish
मैं तो इक ख्वाब कि तलाश में
घूमता रहा
जब जाना कि यही ख्वाब है
फिर नींद नहीं आयी
The morning is shrouded
The wise wait
Reflections remain inaccurate
My mind
is making up the world
I hope
you have the same world in mind
We heard Laila o Laila
play on the FM.
As the drums
did the rolls
Me and my daughter
play our ‘guess who’ game.
“Do you know…
Who is the drummer?”,
I ask.
“I don’t know”,
she says
“It’s ‘Amjad Khan’
I answer, to score a point.
But she says
that’s only in the movie
Who was the Real drummer?
I said…
Who cares!!!
… Who’s Real??
