Pain (a college time poem)

There is I, there is pain, and there is my soul
Twenty two flashes of moonlight,
Twenty drops of saliva on my parched day.

Naresh, sells chai, hot day, cold night, chai chai,
Twenty cups of Naresh Tea, and ink segues into lines,

Twenty two sets of lines, on a hot parched day,
Twenty two cups of blood, on a hot parched day,
Twenty two smiles and smirks, on my hot parched day,
Quenched am I or thirstier still, more blood, more
blood,
Or just awaiting twenty two flashes of cold moonlight.

The cocktail thrill of an earthquake

(A childhood experience).
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Simply put, the earth shudders
As if existence has lost its rudders
Seamless howl of buried thunder
Like a steaming cup on an oven, down under.

The run; out of the home, hearth and breath
Smell of fresh air, enjoyed in forbidden stealth
Watch my house sway, like my yellow spring doll:
Cries of martyred confidence, tears in squall.

Life cannot be so short, as the warning of a doom
The lines on the hand are long, there's warmth in the room
A music of muted gongs, rings in my ears
Blooming virginity of thought, my tender years.

Danced the heart to the vile beat, so ominous and so potent,
Like the next sunirse silenced, and no tear would be left to lament
A smile carved into the conscience, etched in amber
hue, with balmy essence,
That a shiver, surmised in measured moments: sunny
days of callous innocence

Pyasa Pyala

A very old poem of mine .. rediscovered on the net.... :))



honthon pe aaya hai, pyasa yeh ek pyala
dil kahe door ja saqi, ab jaam bharega pyala

aag lagi jo fateeleh pe, naache pagal pyala
jaam saji jo apne dum pe, to dil bharega hala

aaj aayi hai shaam, to sooraj dhalega nyara
chahat suni hai maykhana ki aahat, kaun bharega pyala

uthti hai sukun ki aahat, to bhadak utha pyala,
fugan jo hui khamosh to, piyega khud saqi yeh pyala

rindon ke beech basa yeh, ek tanhaan pyala,
pyasi hai uski bhi honth, pyasa uska pyala

jaan baaki hai bas jism me, baaki bhar gaya pyala
jaane kab niklega dum, jo chalkayega yeh pyala.