So you are gone, I realized this tonight
At the thousandth night of our separation,
Stars glittering, Moon playing hide & seek
Same like the night you and I talked last,
How I hated change and
How I found it at every step I took, is inexplicable.
The promises were not plenty to stay.
Oaths were mere other words said in frenzy
Washed in the first rain of the season.

All those texts I wrote, stanzas I composed
Were not enough to win you.
I ask you; was I that bad?

I remember me; so different than now
Awake all night waiting for your call
to start talks having no purport,
To listen your gasps, kisses and breathe and yawn
Every moment felt like you were breathing unto me
Traversing miles, splashing on face,
Warm in winters, cool in summer nights,
your breath reached;
Inhaling all, I stored it inside
Like a souvenir; to remind me how close we were once.

You said,
you “are weak in catching the hidden meanings
In my poems”. How ignorant I was to not listen
But if you were around now,
I'd explain those connotative lines
full with request and pleas,
I had typed in midnight emotions
tears gashing;
Only had simple meaning;
I long and yearn to live with you,
around you, beside you
every second.
If I’d known substitutes of hundred diverse
emotions spinning,
I'd have used it
to avoid your confusion.
But I didn’t find. My rotten luck!

Sometimes, I ponder
If you're there to see me awake all night for words
that can match you; your radiant beauty, then all
would have been different.
But you're not there to witness the devotion.

To my ill-fate, words carry only pictures
Reading depends on the reader,
And you read it all different than I intended,
Maybe, it’s the fault of my poetry
broken and stained in failure
Never achieved the power to conquer you forever.

Every word I wrote haunt me onwards
See, the sorrow I'm indulged in,
When you have forgotten my existence,
and the love we shared.
Still, after all these years
I fighting with change
Waken all night
weary, tired, sleepy; Write you in poems!

This is my home now,
God knows for how many years more!
The stack of books
upright arranged
in the shape of my dreams looks
disorderly and unorganized,
Loneliness in the shape of an injured cat
Invades the room, meowing, every night,
sniffs scattered objects,
And eventually rests in my lap
effusing air of some stale memories,

As the days move on like a tired traveler,
The stains on the wall are clearing
to my eyes,
Sticky notes like land mafias
appropriates space from the wall,
Che Guvera with a clenched fist
returns a red salute,

The 'fist' forwarded memory of past,
and one by one
Dreadful images reemerged in my mind;
Mother in hospital bed, pale and weak,
gasping for breath,
I sat beside her
waiting for magic,
Several breakups
especially the last one
that hurt most
where I choose this not  her,
And last but not least
my COMRADE days
participating in protests,
bearing batons, and living
like revolutionaries
fighting the corruption in
the system,

But now I yearn to be
part of the system,
As this series of pictures end
The motivation I consumed earlier,
watching twenty minutes
long video subsides,
And all of a sudden I rummage the bed sheet
to look for a hidden pack of cigarettes
which I bought yesterday,

Choices change as we proceed on
in life,
I do regret some of my decisions
and regret them badly,
I have cried at night,
Laughed like a hyena,
I'm weak feigning to be strong,
I see many reasons to quit this task
but one that keeps me
going on is the picture of an ailing mother
dying in a government hospital.

Tonight is the night of renunciation,
O weary heart, shed that person
In tears and sobs—
For moon is weary carrying the grief of world
Wane her a little forgetting your woe tonight,

Tonight is the night of renunciation.
O perturbed heart, untie the hinged boat from
anchor and sail away from hopeless dreams—
For stars are burdened with undue hopes of men,
falling and fading from sky, reduce their weight
Bidding farewell to those memories tonight,

Tonight is the night of renunciation.
O innocent heart, love is despot, so end these grieving
for a person’s absence—
For the air is sick and sad sailing house to house
Lower her sadness abating your loss tonight,

Tonight is the night of renunciation.
O withered heart, saunter in the lawn this approaching dawn
Born anew, listen the chatter and flutter of birds,
For the sighs of lovers have turned their song melancholic,
Sing loud, O heart, return their gayness
For they’re not meant to suffer for our melancholy tonight.

A secret I want to tell you,
that is
You
are among those people
who make
this world a lovely place
by reading only,
Like stars to the universe,
You function the same to poets.

Whose art are thou?
Who is your creator?
'cause I've traced you in every poem and each sculptor,

Were you in Rumi's mind when he wrote, “we are the mirror as well as face in it"

Or In Mir's when he remarked-
"love is the beloved and lover too"
Who art thou?
Where you dwell?

I've seen you in Shakespearean tales
Are you Rosalind or Juliet
Being the centre of the play who dazed audience,
Or one of the long poetry of Milton and Elliott,

Who art thou?
Where thy home?

Are you Beatrice whom Dante
wrote in Divine comedy,
Or Helen, the unparalleled beauty
Or the Monalisa , a dream that Vinci's brush brought on canvass,
Or Kalidasa's mesmerizing Shakuntala

Who art thou ?
Where thy abode ?

Are you a Spenserian sonnet
Or Donne's wit and conceit?
Is it you who shot former "thousand arrows by eyes"
And became latter's "all states and a world ",
Who art thou?

This world is in you
Or you in this world?

You are art
Or art is from you?

Doubts are in hundred

Answer only one-

Any book I read,
The words I write,
All the poems I recite

In all my night’s dream
There's somewhere I find you embedded in them,

It's like all the great poets, artisans had already known you,
And carved you in pages and stones for me.

Whose art are thou?
Who is your creator?
'cause I've traced you in every poem and each sculptor,

Were you in Rumi's mind when he wrote, “we are the mirror as well as face in it"

Or In Mir's when he remarked-
"love is the beloved and lover too"
Who art thou?
Where you dwell?

I've seen you in Shakespearean tales
Are you Rosalind or Juliet
Being the centre of the play who dazed audience,
Or one of the long poetry of Milton and Elliott,

Who art thou?
Where thy home?

Are you Beatrice whom Dante
wrote in Divine comedy,
Or Helen, the unparalleled beauty
Or the Monalisa , a dream that Vinci's brush brought on canvass,
Or Kalidasa's mesmerizing Shakuntala

Who art thou ?
Where thy abode ?

Are you a Spenserian sonnet
Or Donne's wit and conceit?
Is it you who shot former "thousand arrows by eyes"
And became latter's "all states and a world ",
Who art thou?

This world is in you
Or you in this world?

You are art
Or art is from you?

Doubts are in hundred

Answer only one-

Any book I read,
The words I write,
All the poems I recite

In all my night’s dream
There's somewhere I find you embedded in them,

It's like all the great poets, artisans had already known you,
And carved you in pages and stones for me.

Hope is drying up
Like a Well dries after the monsoon,
Sitting in this room, alone and aloof,
I have counted the stains on the wall,
None of it is more prominent than the
One I have with me, I'm a social pariah,
like an untouchable, polluted with death;
Run, Run away from me,
I hold death in my lungs.

Hope is drying up
Like a Well dries after the monsoon,
Sitting in this room, alone and aloof,
I have counted the stains on the wall,
None of it is more prominent than the
One I have with me, I'm a social pariah,
like an untouchable, polluted with death;
Run, Run away from me,
I hold death in my lungs.

Twice decieved
I pounce on my trust
in conflicting mind to tear
it apart,
I move around in my own fear
To trust you again or linger in this
madness thrusted upon me
unasked,
Life was bitter in your absence
But you made it worse with the triangle,
I'm not good in geometry neither
in maths,
I might fail
And failing is better than living in the fear of failure.

Two flowers in a vase
leading a third scent,
Aware of dryness, like
fatalists, they move headlong!

Recapitulate in your mind a love story
I'm about to tell,
The two mortals madly in love, went
Up above after a curse,

Joined the other stars, one appears
in the evening and the other vanishes,

Curse was that they'd meet only for
A second after
Long wait of 24 hours,
Love was still intact between them,

Moments loaded with
Emotions still come, tears trickle and fall,

           It is that falling tear we see
           when we see a shooting star ⭐

Walk mildly,
slowly like an ascetic
Like you see the destination,
its shams and pretence,
Its momentary bliss
And the new destination again,

Walk like nothing excites you
Or worry you,
your gnawing past or
hungry present or
starving future,
Pay heed to none,

They will doubt you
Many will cast abusive looks
when you undertake a task
inconcievable by them,
Pay no attention
Move on like you are deaf
Speak not like you are dumb,

Many greats have walked this path
Deaf, Dumb and Blind,
So cut the noise
shut your eye,
This mediocre crowd
is not worthy of your attention.

Move on like an ascetic
Like you know your destination.

Years Labour
built houses,
apartments,
hospitals,
schools,

It is the same labour that created
Arms,
ammunitions,
tanks,
warships
to destroy the same creation,

Our whole life is paradox;
We live to create
And succeeded in creating
That very thing which
destroys our creation,

In a loop, we're running
Searching and creating meaning,
Taking the help of destruction
we give us the motivation to soak
our hands in blood and gore,

A person lived this life before
He was like us busy in the process
Of creating and destroying,
Our friend! Our Prototype!
Our Sysiphus!

I'm fighting a war in my head,
Plant few armed forces there too
So that they can separate the infiltrators
crossing the mind border...

Let me touch you, hold you,
Kiss you in this wintery night
You are the fire
I a piece of ice,
Union of us would be like rivers meeting the
Immortal sea
Where one consumes and other get consumed;

Under the blanket
When the darkness hides us
We feel the warmth of that warm breath
So close to our face that tells the stories of our days, months
And years together inseparable;

You, Me and this cold darkness
And the presence of two heartbeats in rhythm
Has frozen the fear of life and death
With you, I want to live
Without you I choose death;

I do care about your loose hairband
that allow your tresses and mantle
to flow in the soft breeze,
Small ***** of sweat
trickle-down from forehead,
taking the route of the cheek,
And your both hands occupied in books
Effort vainly to subdue them-

I sit and watch this battle from our college corridor,
Dreaming and fantasizing to be your lover,
And leading the army of affection
Win this contest of tresses and mantle
for you.