Sunday, November 24, 2019

Missing.

"was missing you."

was?
So when was that?
this morning?
yesterday?
or just before this moment,
when the words were punched off the phone?
Or that it's incorrect use of English,
and you still miss me,
staring at your phone screen,
as you wait for my response?
Or may be you are not waiting,
just that you said
what was to be said,
and have moved on 
to the next set of chores?
And what do you miss really?
Our conversations,
that flew from one
to the next
as if they were
one steady flow of thought,
like a river,
flowing through the plains,
ridges or mountains,
noisy, or silent,
but one steady flow?
Or the smell of our bodies,
and sound of our breath,
when, after the long walks
around the quiet streets,
we would dump ourselves 
into each other's bodies
in back of a cab?
Or all the songs 
you would sing in my ears,
as if they were meant to be heard
only by me?
or the purposeful touch
of your skin to mine,
your hands on my back,
your cheek pushed against mine,
your lips, close enough to be kissed,
but not yet?
Or the dreams we would tell,
of making love, 
in the ways they would come to us?
What do you miss, my love?
and how do you miss?
Does your heart ache, 
like mine does at times?
Or dances in joy,
for whatever we had, 
like mine does?
Do you miss me 
in the ways that I do,
that can't even tell you 
that I miss you?

And before the second could pass,
and it would be from 11:12, 
when I got your message,
to 11:13 that I must reply,
should you not kept waiting,
I respond 
" 🤗 [hug smiley]"

Saturday, March 16, 2019

अंत

दिल फाड़ कर,
चल तेरी याद भरता हूँ,
तेरी मुस्कुराहटों की,
एक सौगात भरता हूँ,

जैसे किसी भागते बच्चे ने 
स्टैच्यू बोल दिया हो,
वैसे बुत बन, घंटों,
एक दूसरे की आँखों में निहारा था,
फिर एक झटके में, 
ब्लश कर, मुँह फिरा, 
दिल खोल कर हँस दिया था, 
उस हँसी की,
एक आवाज़ भर लेता हूँ,

तब, उन टटोलती आँखों में,
ना जाने क्या ढूँढते रहते थे,
पर अब जब सब साफ़ है,
इस रात चल, तेरे नाम की 
एक आह भर लेता हूँ,

दिल में इन यादों को
कस कर बंद करते हैं, फिर
बेपते लिफ़ाफ़े में डाल,
नुक्कड़ पर टंगे,
डाक के लाल डब्बे में डाल 
रफ़ू-चक्कर हो जाते हैं,
मालूम है, कोई निकालाने नहीं आएगा 
अब डाक के ये जंग लगे डब्बे 
कोई खोलता है भला? 
अब इश्क़ के एहसास को 
शब्दों में पीरोने का तकल्लुफ़ 
कौन करता है भला? 
वो हॉर्ट वाला इमोजी ही काफ़ी है...

और शायद निकाल भी ले,
तो बिना पते के लिफ़ाफ़े को देख 
झुंझला, यही कहीं फेंक देगा,
और अगर जल्दबाज़ी में डाकघर तक
पहुँच भी जाए, तो मुहर लगने के वक़्त तक
तो कचरे में चले ही जाना है...

फिर इस से उस कचरे,
ऐसे कई डब्बों से होता हुआ,
वो इश्क़,
और उस इश्क़ का 
एक झिझकता हुआ 
इकरार,
जो किया सब नाप-तोल कर,
तब भी जब जोखिम
मेरे पल्ले में ज़्यादा ही रहे।
तू वहीं खड़ा, 
उम्र, धर्म और जात की 
सीमाएँ खींचते रहा,
फिर ठीक ही है, 
चलो अब गले नहीं लगते।

उस इश्क़ को, मुर्दा क़रार,
दफ़न करते हैं,
उसी दिल के किसी कोने में,
जिसे फाड़ कर 
सिलना शुरू किया है,
जब तू इत्मीनान से,
मैयत से उठ, चल पड़ेगा,
कल सुबह,
मैं फिर नए सिरे से,
ये दिल फाड़,
उन्ही यादों को संजीदा,
कर रहा हूँगा।

Friday, February 1, 2019

Come Out



come out,
take sides. 
neutrality doesn’t help those
who have been wronged,
historically, chronically.

come out,
join the pride,
but if can't,
that's ok too.
open your window,
drop down a rainbow drape,
or put up a sticker 
on your door.
let your car or bike,
shout out your support.
Stick up a sign of your love,
on your bag, or your wall
of the room or Facebook
or your school or your heart.

come out,
make your support visible. 
someone around you 
may be hesitant to reach out. 
your outing 
may give them a voice 
they have been seeking 
for all their life. 

come out,
talk to someone about it,
no, you don't need to know it all,
just starting the conversation is enough,
start, and let the conversation lead 
the way to your own learning.
but, start!

come out,
for that 70-year old man,
who waited for his wife to die,
to come out.
for that 17 year old,
who is struggling hard,
just to exist.

come out,
for your closets
will keep us in ours,
for our liberation
is relational;
our joy,
collective.

come out,
and let’s celebrate,
the possibility of you,
dear ally,
and that of me.