You and I,
who never believed
ghosts existed
neither angles
in our childhood  

You and I,
who never believed
a star will fall from the sky
on the other side of the horizon
and make our beautiful imaginations  
come true,
even in our dreams  

You and I,
who carries practicality
in our pockets and
categorized ourselves
according to weight of our wallets  

could never understand  

why a girl
at her 5, 25 or even at 70    
a girl
at her  highest level of maturity
search madly
in each corner of the city
for a particular coloured thread
from thousands and thousands    

and I hardly understand
how she decides
what will look best
on her brother's wrist  

The boy who is still struggling
to take care of his hairs or wardrobe
from where he gains
the courage
to say a girl
don’t worry
for anything
I am here
and wherever you need
I will be there    

You and I
could never understand
why a mature girl’s smile  
seems childish
and why a childish boy’s  smile
seems filled with responsibilities  

when she ties the coloured thread
on his wrist

When it rains
raindrops smoothly pat
on my windows
and slide down
to death  

I don’t think
the drops care
how long they can walk
before they vanish

They perhaps know
the moment they are in
and the moment standing
in front of them
should be cherished

I know
and you also know
the girl
the fair little girl
who was sitting in the back bench
had thrown your confidence
into a scroll
even if
your mother told you
thousand times
you are
her beautiful doll

But the day
you learned to
walk on the street
with heels on
and your dark eyes
got the ability
to throw
the darker smoke around you
into the sky

that day

you showed
and I learned
being fair
is no more require
to set the world
in fire

But one day
surely one day
a darkness, darker than night
will stand before you
and that day
to cross that darkness
and feel the light again
you need to be fair

and remember
your fairness is the only thing
you should care

For me,
love was
my favourite
pale yellow chiffon dress
or may be
my light brown hemp neck less

Brightness of diamonds
placed closely on my fingers
Or darkness of black lines
around my eyes

Love,
may be smiling, giggling or crying over long phonecalls
Or spending hours and hours
and someone’s savings
in a overcrowded mall

Tell me.
how could I realize love can be
more than my imagination,
and your life

It could be choosing
sleepless nights in dark forests
filled with pointed stones
when chances to throw your body
over a cushy bed
in a warm room
is still on

How could I know
how it feels
to take a bullet
directly on your chest
only to
protect the soil on which you were born?

And we, whom you left
in our five star rooms
to sleep peacefully
watch movies with bowls of popcorns
will never understand
what you did for us
even though
we are not related with relations


Today
When I saw you
sleeping peacefully
in the arms of tricolour
and 21-gun salute
could not touch your ear
Today when
thousands of bodies like me
with tear filled heart
raised their hand

I realized
my heart can never love the way
your heart does
and
your soul can never be touched
with my prayers

because

I have never been there

Dear Sun,
If I have to believe on
my school books
or scientifically proven
expert mind opinions

You
are a white sphere,
an anarchic system,
composed of hot, destructive plasmons
and your rays
have the power
to turn my skin and bones
into a lump of grey ash
no matter how far from you
I stand on

Every morning
when your light yellow rays
softly touch me,
a smile spreads on my soul
and
the yellow, orange and magenta shades
you left in front of the darkness
made me to feel,
You are beautiful
though
my mind knows
You are nothing
but a colourless or white burning ball

You don't care me
neither I do
But there is something
unseen between I and you,
demolishes itself each minutes, each seconds
holds your angers
and scatters them into beautiful colours
and
made me to love each time
I see you

But I wonder
Why I failed and am failing
to honour, appreciate and praise
love of the unseen one
and his/her sacrificial care?

My fourteen years old daughter
loves her high heels
may be
more than her mother

Keeping my hands in hers
she told me once
‘’Mom
Please make yourself comfortable
with high heels
Every time you will wear heels
yours knees may buckle
your steps may shiver
But once you will make into the high heeled world
your self confidence
will never crumble”

I wish
I could remove her heels
tie her shoe less tight
and make her to walk
on that road
filled with stones of inhibitions
and slippery sands of prohibitions
because i know
that road
and only that road
leads to
top of the world
where high heels
will be no more needed

But what if
she asks
where are my shoes ?

Hiroshima was destroyed
by the infuriation
of the 'Little Boy'
By extraordinarily intelligent
3 pound brains
and by few well trained
subservient hands

When you were
sitting in your arm chair
and thinking
of
colouring your grey hairs,
each part of a city
a colourful, beautiful city
was burning helplessly
and
what remained was
powder of burnt
innocent eyes, veins, bones
and humanity
in the air

Radiance of morning sun
was no more bright
Nothing was left,
that could be termed as red, pink, blue
or white

Ask
open eyes of the dead bodies.
those were not turned into ash
they might have seen
struggle of sun rays
to cross the air above
them
dark and black

But in that acute darkness,
where even dreams were
not able to
cultivate hope,
each dead body protects
a small bright area
may be a tiny spot
from the radiations
under them

and those were the areas
where
camellias popped up
in that spring
again