Do not shout, or else, I will shoot,
My voice rings out loudly, surprising me too,
I wield my gun, my little black toy,
I know for sure, what magic it can do.

My friend signals me to enter the cockpit,
I feel menacing, but I know my mission,
With some help from my friend, we seize control,
Everything is going as planned, he tells me, giving me the honor of a promising fighter.

Yes, fighter I am, a fighter for the good.
And for goodness to reign, do we not have to finish the bad?
My teachers and my leaders have taught me the distinction between the evil and the holy,
And today, I stand, to accomplish the most prime task on our hands.

The plane has been hijacked, and we are on track,
It is our own toy now, and the game is, to take lives…
This plane is our missile, and our target-the oppressors,
Those killers who deserve to be beheaded alive.

Our toy will now crash into another one, this time, a huge building,
And we will lead to the fall of those wicked souls.
Malice will shriek, and shout in despair,
And victory will be ours, and ours alone.

This is the moment, where the excitement of the game begins,
We are flying at breakneck speed, bracing ourselves to witness our triumph,
My heart beats fast, and my blood flows faster, but then suddenly…
I hear someone’s voice screech into a wail…

I run to see where the sound comes from,
And I see a little child crying,
His head rests in the arms of another little girl,
Who rocks forwards and backwards, shouting, “brother, we are dying!”

We are dying…these words ring in my ears again and again….
We are dying…yes I too am going to, but is this not, part of our game?
We are dying…little girl, why cry, when our mission is about to be accomplished?
We are dying…no! these words are about to turn me insane!

I see innocence yelp in desperation,
And I realise what a killer I am,
For my own game, I am eliminating others’ lives…what have they done?
What right do I have then, to call my work holy, how can I say, that a fighter I am?

My other friends shout at me, that we are very near our target,
I look at them, their leering selves, and think of how they betrayed me,
I was their soldier, I worked in their army, but this was an army of killers!
their baseless philosophies, their gory ideals, had strayed me!

Somebody from the cockpit, shouts, that God has won, we have too,
But have we really won? How have we?
I know not, what God wants us to do…I just know, that he loves us all,
So how can we be triumphant, in killing the ones he loves?

It’s a matter of seconds, I can save no lives,
But I know, that I can die with realization instead of dying a killer’s death,
I am sorry for those who will lose their lives because of me,
I was simply ignorant, but I am still guilty, and my guilt has only one outlet…

My sweaty hands grasp my gun tightly,
I smile reassuringly at the crying boy,
Who I am helping by this action, I know not, but I am freeing my soul,
As I place on my very own forehead, the deadly mouth of my little black toy…

The marks of her tears are
Etched permanently on her pink cheeks.
Her beautiful lips ******
Even when she shrieks.
Her desperate cries go on and on.
Her voice is now hoarse.
She begs us to stop but
Ends up provoking us even more.

We **** her.
And watch her bleed.
Beauty itself invites destruction.
So isn't she responsible for our deeds?

She flails her arms.
She screams.
She tries to fight.
She cannot challenge our iron might.

There will come a time when everyone will know, she says.
We slap her across her rose-tinted face.
Everyone already knows, but there is no one to fear
Because everyone is an animal out here!

Someday she will fall silent forever
After cursing and begging in vain.
And though we are the plunderers of her treasures,
Do you think we would bow down our heads in shame?

We wouldn't mind pressing, for the last time,
Her dead woman's arms under our iron hands.
Yes, we would **** for one last time, her wealth.
She is, after all, just a piece of land.

Where did you hide our love, darling?
At the top of that snowy mount you scaled?
Or in the depths of the river you rafted in?
Or was it in the dank silence of those ancient caves-
The greens of the valley you camped in,
Or in her arms as you both gazed at the Milky Way
in its starry vast glory,
Where did you hide our story?
I wonder if it's too much to ask about
where the deathbed of our love lies,
I wonder if you'd tell me so I could wish it
one last goodbye

Take them off now,
It's been too long since
we've amused ourselves
with those layers of
goofy humour, non-sense jokes,
favourite song, favourite movie,
hell I don't even have any favourites
I just told you to keep
the conversation going, so
I could reach somewhere deep
beneath your colorful veil
and explore the place no one else has
touched,
dim and soft and silent and still,
house to your secrets,
your fears and your dreams,
your demons and your guardians,
the dark and the sunny
facets of your being-
take me there,
Disrobe yourself,
of these distracting layers

The trick is to deeply inhale,
Loosen your inhibitions and let go,
You don't know if you'll be saved
Or you'll fall, still-
Let go,
What's the point of everything, really?
Of polite smiles and sniggers behind backs-
Of storms within and silent exteriors-
Of days of drudgery and painful nights-
Of worldly desires that forever grow in height?
The only sensible thing in the world
Is the nonsensical, the vague, the free state of
Nothingness
That you were born in, you don't remember but
That was the most serene, most quiet,
Most happy you ever were,
Retreat to that innocence, what stops you?
Goals? There's no end to them anyway.
People? They'll walk out anyway.
Comfort? It won't last anyway.
Leave it all before it leaves you,
Surrender yourself into
The all-enveloping arms
Of the endless blue skies,
Breathe in freedom and jump
Even though you don't have wings,
Even though gravity appears menacing,
And even though no one taught you how to-
The moment you'll let go,
Life will catch you,
Embrace you, cradle you, lift you high-
And trust me, dear reader,
Then you'll fly,
Even though no one taught you how to,
You'll fly...

Suspended in his animation,
Between just tangible vapour
And barely there air,
I can touch him and I can't,
Yet I know he's there

I realised that Life
was a scheming, vile *****
the day I felt the pain
of a sudden, shattering loss
Indifferent, and unforgiving,
you may keep questioning it
fervently, relentlessly,
but it won't give you an answer.

Life isn't answerable to you,
It will cradle you with the
illusion that you're in control
Then will suddenly wihdraw,
And watch as you fall

Whoever spread the notion
that life was a gift,
forgot to mention that the gift was accursed
You could relish it for moments
But when it would be time,
It would leave you to darkness,
And never look behind.

How can you forget him
If you keep seeing yourself as
A martyr?
Stop glorifying failure.
Be a **Survivor.

It dances and shimmies and leaps.
I jump and howl and weep,
While the tail-less lizard tuts in dismay,
"Oh dear I'd never dreamt of this day",
Wiggling away to the deep.

The best part about
Being a rule-breaker
Was the beautiful fact
That we did it *together

Hearty laughter and untamed voices,
Bright red lipsticks and brazen choices,
Bold heels studded with some virtues-some vices,
Tongues laden with sharp, unabashed spices
Go out and out, and be proud, women,
The time is right, to be loud, women!

Loving you is an acquired taste
Like my love for cheesecake,
Strange, unfamiliar, sour-ish at first,
Frowned upon by many, not understood by some,
Which slowly grew upon me, with its
Pleasant softness, the delicious gooeyness of its core,
the sweet, sweet feeling long after it's
touched my lips,
Loving you, an uncharted flavour then,
makes all the sense in the world *now

It's that time of the night again

The memory of your presence
Lulls me to soft sleep
But the shock of your absence
Pulls me awake again

I toss and turn in this gnawing pain
It's that time of the night again

Writing about him
Is an addiction
That I convince myself
Is in remission,
But my heart knowingly
Sees through the deception.

Writing about him
Is an undying compulsion,
Just like loving him is.

Don't go by convention, na!
Grab a chair and sit next to me,
Not at the opposite side where
So distant you'd be,
No! I'm not saying so because I want to
hold your hand or something-
not that I would mind, but no-
Just sit beside me, so I could
lightly punch your arm,
secretly stare at your dimple,
watch your eyes mischievously twinkle,
also take a spoonful of your slice of cake-
so be near me and,
let closeness be the highlight of this first date.

He was sewn into her life like
Fine embroidery on silk,
In he went, sharp needle tip
Into her softness digging,
Then piercing her inside out, emerging
Only to be driven again back in,
He was the rose that was carved
On her pale, plain form;
His red completing her deficiencies,
His fragrance camouflaging her inconsistencies,
A Prince Charming,
Made just for her, she was told,
With sword of steel and armour of gold,
His grip hurt?- "It was supposed to, a little bit!"
His thorns stung?- "Oh surely you can bear it!"
Why was he there?- "Hush, woman!
You aren't supposed to ask that!
The rose is your crown, it is your badge
of honour, of modesty, of shame,
The little holes and their bleeding flames
Are marks of the strength of a woman, you see!
The strength that to only you, nature brings,
To stitch your man on to your fragile skin
To exhibit the flower, hiding the thorns within,
To gracefully mask the bruises, the puckering,
For you need him to fill your shortcomings"
-*without questioning.

Trail of hickeys
On veiled skin-
Speaker of stories
Of storms and sins

So this very extraordinary poet
Said that my words were very "warm, and wise"
Oh I did a celebratory dance only
Before I sadly realised

That I was the girl who had once screeched
"I hate youuuuu" at a friend in the middle of a busy street!
Ah well, guess I'm that kind of poet who
Reserves all her wisdom for Hello Poetry

Palindromically flowing
Mirrored thoughts
Race back and forth
Forth and back.
That and this,
This and that,
All identical
~Same to same~
Identical all,
That and this,
This and that
Back and forth
Forth and back
Race mirrored thoughts
Flowing palindromically.

Who are you?
The you we keep writing about,
We- the poets; poets around the world,
Across time immemorial and
space immeasurable,
We write about you,
We shape your skeleton
With the strength of all the pain
We've borne, and we sculpt your flesh
With the wistful beauty of our tears,
We bring you to life with our words
Make them course through your body
Like blood,
Who are you?

The cry of our first heartbreak?
The joy of a lover's return?
The stunning silence of absolute loneliness?
Of turmoil and torment, the stinging burn?

You're all of the above,
and more- profoundly more,
You're a piece of every poet's heart,
Infinite power, immense emotion,
You are the cumulative of every drop of blood
The poet has shed through their pen
You are the story that stays stifled inside
the confines of paper, until someone comes along
And unlatches your locks,
Absorbs the burden of the poet's grief,
And at that moment, brings you to the form in
which you had been intended to be.

It is then, that you, the very essence,
the very soul of the poet,
Can take flight, blissfully relieved,
When you are read, your creator is finally free.

Light me up, baby.
Spread your sunshine over my dark sky.
Ward these sinister  clouds away, please!
I need you, my rainbow, glimmering before my eyes.  

It’s a white, plain piece of paper,
This dull life of mine,
It needs the ink of your passion to write over it,
The colorful story of our union, sublime.

So mix into my insipid existence,
Some of your sugar; it needs your flavor.
Sweeten it with a smile, and the twinkle of your eyes,
Wouldn’t you do me this little favor?

I wander, like the solitary stream of water
In the mountains, searching frantically for the river.
Like the tide trying each night, to reach for the moon,
My soul too restlessly thrashes hither and thither.

Like the still boat floating in the silent, dark waters,
In solitude and quiet, I want to lie with you.
Like the green grasses awaken, glittering in the morning,
I want to wake up with the glow of being enamored by you.

Embrace me, like the orange-hued sky
Caresses, at the horizon,  the lonely sea.
Like the rustling leaves that whisper to each other in the  breeze,
Lean in and speak softly, sweet-nothings to me.

Come to me now, let all of time converge into that one moment,
When your lips will, for a second or two, over mine, teasingly hover,
Then kiss me for an infinity, and let me melt into the arms,
Of you- my hero, my paramour, my eternal lover.

He vanished one fine day
Left his cellphone on his bed
Packed no clothes
Withdrew no money from the bank
Spoke to no one
He was under no debt
And otherwise too,
He didn't appear distressed-
Well, assuming so,
Because whenever you would
Mock him, call him a name or two,
Become aghast and ask
"Who gets married and starts a family at fifty two!?"-
He'd not do much,
He'd mutter few profanities,
Or curse your favorite cricketing team,
Or he'd just skip lunch,
Go for a stroll and he'd be fine again.
But this time he strolled away
Without a trace
Leaving you to scour newspapers everyday
Matching the photos they print
Of abandoned dead bodies,
With his prematurely aged face.

The sound of my footsteps creates frantic echoes.
It is a cold, menacing night.
Darkness envelops me as I walk right into it.
Far away, I see the feeble glow of a streetlight.

I keep looking back nervously,
almost expecting my eyes to meet a stranger's eyes,
when from somewhere behind me comes
a very faint voice.

It's barely more than a whisper and I can't hear what he says.
But the chilly wind sends his message across.
I know that he's calling out to me.
I know what he wants from me.

What stops me from running away from him?
What makes me turn back?
What pulls me towards his invisible form?
What makes me want to surrender to him, everything I have?

The firmness of my feet gets replaced by submission.
I almost float towards him, as if in a trance.
The Woman takes me over, and with her Man
she wishes to perform the Dance.

I stand a few feet away from him
and my eyes stop to converse with his.
"I need you", his eyes say.
"I need you too", mine shoot back.
Oh but, are good girls supposed to express
their desires like that?

The first question arises
and the spell breaks.
He's invisible no more and I can see
his unkempt hair, his unshaven face.
He half-smiles.
He lifts his arm.
I back away.
He might cause harm!
He moves towards me.
He is no longer my beautiful fantasy.

But then he touches his hand with mine.
Once again, he becomes a faceless dream.
Once again, reality begins to lose shape.
Tonight, there's no escape.

His situation was dire.
Despite having taken shelter
Inside that ring of fire,
Fuelled with whiskey and ****,
And ****** with flesh,

She still held in her beautiful hands
The end of the rope around his neck.

Stepping into, and out of the flames
With unbelievable, unnatural ease,
She would tighten and loosen
That noose of her deadly love,
As and when she pleased.

A world's difference there is
Between expanse and depth.
They may give you promises
As vast as the breadth
Of the biggest oceans,
Yet, if it doesn't burrow as deep
As their heart's most inner cove,
Remember, my friend,
It isn't true love.

Fumble in the dark,
Become a tangled, clumsy mess,
Then laugh at it all hysterically-
Oh how deeply I relish Awkwardness

Awkwardness in love,
In little things I do- in everything I do,
The 'neat and clean' ones won't get it,
But it's known to us blundering fools

That tidily cutting slices of cake
And eating them in plates with spoons
Comes nowhere close to devouring cream
In fistfuls and untamed scoops,
And licking the blueberry syrup
As it trickles down your hand,
And fighting over the part
With most icing,
Getting some on your cheeks in return.

Shyly wiping it away from your lover's face
With a tissue comes nowhere close
To kissing it off his skin,
Don't you think?

Awkwardness is real,
Proof that we are alive, not merely living,
So, taste the deliciousness of it,
Let go, and dig in!

Tiny specks, smaller than sand grains,
You and I-
Lost in the daunting cosmos,
The never-ending skies,
How insignificant, how minute
We are, I wonder,
With the Universe spread out
Before us in all its splendor,
Until our eyes meet and
The world we share, plays out,
I stare at our galactic bond,
From within and without,
Than all depths, vaster
Than all stars, brighter
A tale infinite, eternal,
Our love, celestial.

Ours wasn't the romantic saga
We had imagined it would be
But no less than a fairytale it was
In its length, short and sweet.
Few pages, yet composed with the
Most melodious words, moistened with
The most crystal tears,
A whirlwind- intense, abrupt, yet unbelievably soft
Our very own novella
That we wrote with our fingers intertwined
And illustrated some pages
With the color of our kisses
Remember you asked me why I left that last page blank?
I did it for this moment my dear,
Meeting you after all these years
You say you're planning to leave your hair un-dyed
From now, it'll be glistening white
I wouldn't do the same, I'm still coping
With these crow feet near my eyes!

You have a different world
As I have mine,
I didn't leap into your arms and shower you with love
Like, almost, was the norm in our time,
No playful nudges, no giggling, no madness

Just a strange, settled, calm kind of tenderness.

The tenderness, that, untouched by time,
Dutifully stayed
As a silent, poignant reminder that
The love never did,
And never will fade.

Slow cooked over a simmering flame
is how I'd like our love to be
Full of earthy fragrances and soft
crackling of fire fuelling our chemistry

Wafts of aroma will float through,
with the gradual deepening of the flavour
Impatient bubbles will form and burst,
Heightening the temptation to savour-

That delightful melange of emotions,
But we'll hold back and let there be
A deeper hue, a thicker consistency
To our painstaking alchemy

For the dish of love will be best served
When conceived with patient devotion,
So lend me a hand darling; let's slow-stir
together, our delectable concoction

She's been blooming ever since
She set foot on this earth,
With cheeks that people found akin
to cupcakes and a cackle that'd
make even the harshest ones swoon,
She'd bloom.

When she grew- she grew a tad bit awkward,
Beauty doesn't follow roadmaps,
So her eyebrows did a little mischief,
And her weight didn't really obey,
A pimple or two popped out too,
of its own accord,
Yet, with that fire in her heart
and the spark that it reflected her eyes,
though she didn't recognise,
she was making the world her own,
Yes, she was in bloom.

As she walks down her office corridor,
Sharp and chiselled,
Confident and aware
of every look, every stare
falling on her frame, she remembers the days
when she wasn't so much of a charmer,
and thanks her lucky stars that she did in the end
turn out to be a late bloomer.
I wish I'd tell her,
Oh if she'd listen, I'd tell her-
My dear, never once did your sheen waver,
Never once did your glory falter,
Through your clumsiness and your flaws
Through your missteps and your doubts,
You remained a stunner,
And will stay so, in your life and beyond,
For you are a perennial bloomer.

This* big a commitment,
And this tiny an assurance!
But I guess when a guy
So tall, so tough,
Takes his finger
That too the littlest,
And with a face
So earnest,
Curls it around yours,
While making a side remark
On how easily the two "pinkies" fit,
He means to keep his promise,
Oh yes, he means it.

He had suddenly spoken that day-
Gaze fixed at the cup of ice cream in his hand,
As his other hand caressed my hair,
In the gentle coolness of October air-
That whenever he saw half-melted, half-scooped out
Strawberry- soft, thick, flowing, pink,
He would always think,
That when a spoon would run over,
Its smoothness to subtly scrape,
How sensuously it would fall like a poem,
In graceful curve, in rhythmic shape.
"And over the cold, ragged edges that remain,
I run my fingers", he said,
"And I get that feeling- you know?-
When you rub your palm against red velvet?
Yes, that!"

I nodded, feigning understanding, but oh!
How there could be poetry in strawberry,
I had not the slightest clue,
Until he smeared some with his fingers,
And slowly kissed it off my lips.
Then, I knew.

I see it,
It's within reach now
Soon- soon enough,
I'll get there,
*To the point where I just won't care

Both
Too much,
and too little
Commotion,
Can mute the poet's emotion

Insulated by your embrace
From all chaos and commotion,
I take refuge in your arms so strong,
While the world continues to toss and turn

Lie in prostration, child,
When life bereaves you
Of all truth, all inspiration
All light, all the ways.

For they'll find you,
They'll come to you,
Bathed in glory,
Unreal beauty and grace,
Twin guardian angels,
Soft, tender glow
On perfectly sculpted face
Capped with sparkling halo.

All you'll need to do then,
Is to rise, lift your arms,
And you'll feel your pain
Start to slowly dissipate,
As you'll cup your weak,
Trembling palms, to
*Reach out and touch Hope,
Reach out and touch Faith.

It's just awkward when people ask me what I write about

More so when they're still
Expectantly, quizzingly blinking
After I've already answered them with,
"Anything and everything!"

I never
heard you
    *Sing

Mind,
Stop racing please?
Thoughts don't have
A finishing line

Nostalgia is a bitter-sweet pill,
I taste it as the wind tickles
My bare shoulders, just like
His breath used to,
I drink it when I remember
The dizzy euphoria of devouring
His wine-kissed lips,
Oh what I wouldn't give
To have him tiptoe back into
My existence and grab me by my waist,
Erase the bitterness and replace it
With the sweetness of himself.
Oh what I wouldn't give
To have him fill in the blanks
He's left in my poetry,
Replenish the drought, the paucity
Of his most sacred gift to me,
Words
If he'd return,
My words would too.

Showing up unceremoniously
From behind prissy waistbands unyielding,
Giggling out between breaths ****** in,
Unabashed, untamed rolls of me,
Not needing flattering illumination or angles,
Only truth-shopped and real-brushed,
Sharp with their curves and bends and curls,
Their glory making me feel like the cover girl
That i am.

Your breaths were soft murmurs
Muffled within the green whisperings
of the hooded lush covers,
I could catch a glimpse of your
bold cheekbones when light bounced
off them; light that would come and go
of its own accord,
From where and where to, who knew,
We only kept going on,
Deeper and deeper wheels took us,
Guided and misguided by the silences
That guarded the secrets of the forest,
Secrets that weighed down its rustling leaves,
Like they weighed us down everyday,
I would have licked off that bead of sweat
that must be rolling off your cheek right now,
Then why don't you?, a cricket quizzically chirped
Look, even the wilderness is talking to me,
Why don't you!, I wanted to ask,
But I didn't, the maze of tree trunks engulfing us
Tighter by the second,
The jungle looked so benign in the daylight,
Its vibe gentle, its voice tranquil,
Its green, so calm in the sun,
Turned to a bloodthirsty red by the night,
And a million stealthy eyes opened and followed
our drive, laughing at us as we lost track,
You and I,
Speeding away from sanity,
Hurtling away from humanity,
Rocketing away from reality,
No words spoken, but our hearts
pounding in unison as we ran,
In hopes of launching into that dimension
That existed sans sense of material,
Sans sense of reason,
Sans sense of self.
Remember, I've promised you nothing,
Said the jungle elusively,
Winding its curves dangerously steep,
Mysterious even in its time of sleep,
While your foot harshly pushed the pedal,
In the desperate hope that bound us
That if we could wander off track like last time,
and stumble upon that dimension once again,
and strip ourselves naked of the secrets,
and let our truths and our lies be consumed
by the Jungle,
Perhaps, once again,
Like last time,
We could lose it all to find each other.

Holding on to dear life
Falling each moment,
More and more
In love with you

No mistress of metaphor
No star of sonnets
No heroine of haiku
No queen of quatrain,
Merely in touch with the -
Language of longing,
Sanctity of sin,
Din of desolation,
Poetry of pain.

Erase
Unlearn
Torch
Watch it burn
Stomp on it,
Think it's dead
See it emerge
From the ashes instead,
Invincible,
On fire undousable,
Beating vigorously
With love unquenchable,
Heart flaming
With undying heat.
Start over, in vain,
The infinite repeat.

Oh he's got such flair,
That khuda khair
One can't help but just stare...
**Unabashedly

I cannot help but lament at
The futility of being a word-weaver,
As I try and search for the
Perfect topic that could steer
My blundering, fumbling conversation
With you to something more than ordinary
Alas, hours pass and I fail miserably, so,
Dejected, I lucidly write about it on Hello Poetry.

It is difficult-
Separating from yourself
A part of you,
A part of your ideas,
your dreams,
Letting go of elements
of your being,
For someone else's essence.
It is difficult, making room
for another's entity,
but then again,
when was Love ever easy?

I went to your apartment yesterday,
You weren't there, but everything still
Felt like home.

As I opened the door, your
Familiar fragrance hugged me tight,
Just as you used to.

My favorite shirt lay crumpled on the bed,
As if you'd left it naughtily there to remind me
How I've ruined it one too many times.

I grabbed it and smelled it deep,
I inhaled the scent of your chest, your shoulders,
Your arms, oh your arms that I love so much.

I lay on your bed with my senses
Buried inside your shirt, inside your beautiful self,
I cried and I laughed at the same time.

Little had changed in your room
Since I'd left.
I wished this room mirrored our lives.

I hoped you'd return early,
And find me curled up inside the blanket
Of those million memories we'd created together,

But you didn't come, and it got dark outside,
And suffocating and unwelcoming,
And lonely inside.

I left, clutching the keys firmly in my palm,
They're all I have now, to spare me of the pain,
That stings me day and night.