6am to 10pm

Don’t don’t don’t copulate,

Between 6am to 10pm

Don’t don’t don’t masturbate

Between 6am to 10pm

Don’t sell condoms between

6am to 10pm I said again

And turn on ‘Astha Channel’

Hey Yogi, did yoga today?

Cow stretch? There come Gau-rakshaks

Don’t don’t don’t speak

Between 6am to 10pm

Sex education? Excuse me?

Not between 6am to 10pm

Take that business to your home

But not between 6am to 10pm

However if you want to buy some condoms,

Buy between… ‘Hey where’s your Aadhar?’

Did you link it to your ‘ahem-ahem bill?’

Not between 6am to 10pm.

What did you say?

1.6 Cr abortions in India?

81% at home?

Nah, not between 6am to 10pm.

50% pregnancies unintended?

Not between 6am to 10pm.

Peacock doesn’t cry between 6am to 10pm.

Cow doesn’t give birth between 6am to 10pm.

Modi doesn’t…. Ahem-ahem. Sorry!

What? 4-year old boy molested a 4-year old girl?

Nah, not between 6am to 10pm.

‘But sir, school starts at 9a…’

‘Ahem-ahem’

Padmavati, Padmavati Padmavati…

‘But sir, 300,000 farmers protested in Delhi…’

Padmavati.

Not between 6am to 10pm.

‘Government is giving Chastity belts for free’

‘But I don’t want it.’

Brainwash, Padmavati, Shambhulal, Cow, 370.

‘How the hell it came on my genitals,

What the… Why can’t I open it?’

‘We linked it to your Aadhar.’

Sigh. ‘Let’s enter the Aadhar number.

What the…. Why can’t I still open it?’

Not between 6am to 10pm.

Advertisements

In The Pile of the Ashes

They said we’d bring you a new light

But who cares if they shut the old off?

In the colors of black and faded white

They added red like a burning tar.

And if the sound is broken in our hearts?

Do we really care if this world smothers on?

Hinding in the cavities of our faces,

Do we really want to rage to win this war?

And hide in the nights not to be a victim,

And speak our mind without a question,

Are we here safe and sound from the wolves that we’ve fed?

To tear something else apart

But now they’re not in their den

We’re scared of holding pens

They’re scared of us holding pens

Ink still is stronger than the sword.

But do we need it on our papers?

Or need it on our faces?

When Rookies are with the guns

And killing off rising Aces?

The beast we’d fed has turned his back on us

It’s grown bigger than our faces

And peace is hiding in the rust.

Red is over all the places.

They say that we’ll move on,

From the heartache and the pain.

But all the suns that set,

In the cold blood of the slain,

Will it echo ever or not?

Will it be the one of the ones we forgot?

Is it out of our hands now,

What we brought out of our heads?

Tell me how do you sleep

Backstabbed in the bloodstained beds?

Are we leaving this one off

Or running from within?

The wolves will devour all they’ve got

Are our maiden names is Sin?

Do we really care?

Is it okay, is it fair?

There goes one more down,

In the pile of the ashes.

After-mornings

The moon on the top of our heads

The warmth of your after-beds

The blank blankets and loveless lights

All may shiver in the snows of these nights

When I’ll take the after-mornings of your gone

And the sun of our hearts will break at the dawn

Tears will be around the garden in the dew

In a million of heaven’s, ours are a few

Will the echo of this falling star

Be one of all those fallen stars

Will the bruise on my breath be yesterday’s scar

So long as we’d gone far

Will there be a perpetual name

Stronger than mine, of grounding game

With all the tears that I’d write this one

Might disappear and we’ll have none.

Inquisitively, do you see beyond my eyes?

Of mountains and books and faces and tries

May I dive and clean your mirrors up

While world does wander tying trouble up

Put then the strength in my hands

I’ll put the power in your heart

And hope will take the dreams

To one more heart apart

Till my name be forgiven

And your heart be in spring

For all that it’s given.

A Tale of Morning

Mornings are said to be brought by that old man

Who had no faith, no hate and no hands

They say he had a tail

And the bigger teeth

And his shadow walked below

Ground the underneath

And he tolled the night

Long and neverending

He waited to pull it up

With fangs and tails and legs

And strength never spending

They say it was a long era

And millions of nights had died

And the stars were shaking

Out o’ his mighty fright

And years then rolled

And creatures not now slept

In the misty atmosphere of the shivering Earth

All Pariahs gladly wept

Mountains roared and clouds did thunder

Trees screamed in Valhalla under

And then came a golden thread

A thing of beauty unseen before

The corns were corns and fire red

Everyone was screaming in joy

The snake that came from frozen mountains

A crocodile across from farland river

A tree from the valley of nocturne fever

And the owl ocean-side

All had appeals, all had rejections

And then came hovering the second thread

The panic rose high and some of them condemned

And now the fire was yellow

And the snow was melting low

Then the third thread, then the fourth, then more

Chaos touched the peak and everyone cried

Some at beauty, some at horror

With watery eyes they looked now farer

Old man’s fangs glistened

And tail twisted, legs stepped back

Then came the burning sun

And cold was forced to be mellow

Everyone stopped and some went to sleep

At the edge of the morning some did profusely weep

And then the fangs fell

Like diamonds slithering through mist

And tail turned to a hundred petals and to melting wind

The skin then shed to dust

And came a spirit that touched a few creatures

Then the morning rose and smiled

And from those who screamed in horror and those who screamed in joy

They say we all have come from them

A Nursery

In the graveyard of stars

A shell that shrills and streaks

Hurls to the side on the large

Zens for eons, for months, for weeks

Go to the puddle the reflection of fires

Younger the dust and new wind

Forging a place for a million choirs

Xenon the silence in the new grind

Everything expands exponentially

What would wage without wonders

Dragging daunting days daily

Vivaciously varied vast vendors

Call the life and life sparks maiden

Under the graveyard, a nursery in mayhem.

What Are You?

I guess we both aren’t coming up

Everytime my fingers run over you

You sink deeper into my heart

I sink deeper into your skin

And that’s a comfort there

In the warm core of your youth

On subtle, soft flesh I run miles

The rhythm of your melodies

The charm of the words falling out of your mouth

The lips that curve perfectly

Like a goddess celebrating her body

Like a mighty lord channeling his power

Like a butterfly breaking through the cocoon

You make an intimidating appearance

You dawn upon me like desire to a devil

You make me wanna cry profusely

So perfect at symmetries, how could it be?

Those fingers, those legs, that sweet mouth I taste

Have I ever tasted anything sweeter than, before?

You’re a greed to my eyes

A power to my waist

A passion to my jittering brain

A dark desire to my losing heart

Everytime I lie with you

Every inch of your skin on my skin

Each moment of your mouth on my mouth

Liberation comes through bed

Liberation comes through this perilous lust

Liberation comes through holding you naked

And this wasted youth is wasted even more on you

And then you ask if I’m in it?

I was into you the very first time I saw you

Through the glass of now broken glasses

I guess I saw you and told myself that I wanted it

Every inch of your mighty thrust

Every bud of that moving tongue

Every strand of those dark brown hair in my fingers

Yes, I wanted it all the moment I saw you

I was conscious

I was wondering if I looked good enough

But then you made it feel like unnecessary

Bowled me over my senses

Belittled me with those bewitching glances

Sorcerer, I thought to myself

How could someone be so majestic?

That it makes me want to cry

Makes me want to worship

Take you in my mouth and blow your mind

Show you that you’re wanted

That you’re cared for

That you’re a dark desire to someone

That you make it hard to breathe at times

That you make me want to write poems

That you make me a little more like you

I expand, I swear I expand

And now it feels like I’m bigger than before

You’re an enchantress

You’re a magician and I’ve become a trick

Oh and when you lie on me

Can I describe that feeling?

The way you guide my limbs when we do it

The way you move my waist

Or work my body in a hundred ways

Can I express those moments?

Words will fall short

God, you make me imbecile

What are you?

Ode to a Poet

What does a Poet’s heart desire?
Is it the beloved’s bosom burning fire?
Or the tender tulip lipped wine of his youth
Does a splendour warm summer sooth
What does a poet’s heart desire?

Is it the mourn of leafless tree’s wind
Or a stream’s gurgle aloft the corner grind
Does it require the strength of beloved’s arms?
Or a seraph’s titillating charms
Is what it wears for a frantic attire.

The world is left in an unchartered asunder
Without a poet’s heart that does wonder
Siphoning the gallows of deepest woes
Weaving the muse on lonely hills tiptoed
And dampening the might of a hundred choirs.

The despairing world may never know
Through the words bleeding to and fro
What does a poet’s heart desire?
A divulged gut-wrenching lore to admire
Of life as tattered or valuable sapphire.

I wonder when would I get to see you next,
It has been a week, more so, I guess,
Like flowers in the sun await the wind
And cold wind blows by the meadow
And in between all the stillness
The flower withers and wind becomes breeze

Would you become better if I waited on you?
Shall I perish for I am not eternal?
How long this week feels if you knew
Perhaps, you would come rushing back
There have passed a billion stars several times
And the seconds, oh forever frozen

There is a cuckoo on my foyer sitting
Always telling me you’re around the corner
And as I rush, the street thinks I’m a fool
The bicycles mock me, and dash by
And then there at the corner, my heart sinks
And I leave it there, in despair and wait

And then I look down from my window
Oh there go people, gaily back to the arms of their beloved
And I sit, I sit and I wait, in a frozen longing
Oh sweet embrace of your wanting eyes
Cars honk their horns, bees buzz and trees rustle
The only note missing is your sweet voice

The autumn, the spring, the winter and the summer
All feel the same, cheerless and silent
Though it has been just a week, perhaps, I guess
But I’ve lived seasons through it without you
And my work is not good, I have got a few proposals too
And you do not know, I’ve been having nightmares.

Flicker of smoke like a trampled will
Her face, her grace, all over the place
And the tears, the tears and the wears
Sinking like a bolt into the Earth
The wind, the wind up and glint of eyes
Flare like a comet through the chest
Did she know, no I guess no

The wait, the weight of ever late
Like a sailing cloud never coming down
Crosses her heart like a dagger of faith
How she felt her lips, wisps of lost chase
Going right, in the right of her wrong
Digging desperately into her face
Like pins, sow the heap, heap and sow

Mercy, the more she sees the moor of her dreams
Crippling like a broken branch against wind
She’d go down, drown and grow alone
In the blighted superstition of her hope
Striking like a tsunami against her life
She does know, I guess she’d always known
It is soon to be over, over her suffering

If love were the fire
Then his words were the gasoline
And his eyes two marbles ready to ignite everything they fell upon

If love were the ice
Then my body was the water
And his touch was more than enough to freeze me to absolute zero

If love were a flower
Then I was just another pollen
And his glance was the fresh air that took me in the arms and brought me to ovary

If love were the blue sky
Then I was just a light falling through
And he was the air that dispersed me

If love were the black sky
Then he was the stars and the moon
Giving it a definite face and a definite view

If love were the breeze
Then his glance was the gas
And his grace was the van der Waals holding it all together

If love were the sleep
Then his smile was the first dream
And his carelessness was the comfort that gives it the existence

If love were the trees
Then his limbs were the branches on which I swung
And his hair were the leaves I found comfort under

If love were the ground beneath
Then his chest was the mantle I lay my head upon
And his beautiful arms were the soil that covered me

If love were the home
Then his passion was the four walls
And my mesmerized heart was the roof resting upon it

If love were the consciousness
Then his wisdom was the feelings
And his laughter was the curiosity to understand them all

If love were the road
Then his burning penis was the gravel
And his lips were the destination I had to reach to

If love were the journey
Then his body was the time
And my madness was the steps taken through

If love were a fragrance
Then his musk was the source of all the perfume
And I was the sense to pick it

But love was the death
And he was a life lived and won
I was the after, the unknown…