Kalam-Kaifiyat

Kalam-kaifiyat ko bhi aag aur ishq ki tarah

Bujhaane ki koshish karte hain log.

Daal do mujhe andheri kaal-kothhari mein, lekin

Kya lafzon ki udaan par zor hai kisika?

Kaale andhere mein, kaali syaahi se utarte hain yeh

Timtimaate hue alfaaz, aur

Raah dikhaate hain kabhi bhatke hue raahi ko.

Kabhi saath dete hain neend se haari aankhon ka.

Kabhi ban jaate hain tohfa mohabbat ke naam par.

Kalam-kaifiyat ko bhi aag aur ishq ki tarah

Jitna bujhaao, utna bhadakti hai.



(Kaifiyat = The state of intoxication)

Bebaak Ishq

Chuppi wala ishq pasand karte hain log..

Ishaaron mein baatein ho'n
Alfaaz sharmaate ho'n
Jhuki si ho nazrein
Armaa.N ghabraate ho'n...

Hai khoobsoorat yeh ehsaas. Beshaq.
Par thoda puraana sa lagta hai.
Sab hi ka hai yeh andaaz..
Thoda falaana sa lagta hai.

Chalo kuch alag karte hain!
Zara bindaas farmaate hain
Zara chaunkte chaunkaate hain
Phir agar chaaha toh
Kal parso sharmaate hain

Chhupa chhupi wala ishq pasand karte hain log.
Chalo chai-pakoda-gappa karte hain.
Chalo ek doosre ka thappa karte hain!

Mehfooz

Mere wallet mein teri photo mehfooz hai.

Jab bhi koi sauda hota hai, ek nazar dekh leti hoon.

Tu yaad aata hai,

Aur yaad aati hai teri saudebaazi...

Band karke pocket mein rakh deti hoon main wallet phir.

Aur log mujhe samajhte kanjoos hain!

Mere wallet mein teri photo mehfooz hai.

Tick tock

We're killing each other, time and I.
It teases me,
crawls very slow...
Sometimes it stops. Just like that.
Suddenly it somersaults back to when it was full of you.
Then it ticks by normally... like nothing happened.
The worst is when it slips into the night, and then wears a new day, and things are unchanged.
We're killing each other, time and I.

Ret par ek bada sa dil banaya tha humne kabhi

Aur apne naam likhe the uske andar

Toh kya hua agar lehron ne usse mitaa diya?

Woh ek pal, jismein lehron ne uss dil ko chooma tha,

Woh pal aaj bhi kahin dhadakta hai samundar mein...

I Am a Spendthrift

Why give yourself away?

Belonging to someone.

Spending time, feelings,

love, passion, and fun.

And smiles, tears, words,

stars, and rains, and sun.

And pocket money, flowers,

gifts… by the tonne.

And dreams, and trust, and hope,

and thoughts that rerun.

Why spend yourself away

like wool that’s spun?

And look up from the finished

scarf to see no one?

I want to travel.

To China to see if they have pet dragons to light their stoves.

To Spain and check if it really has the beautiful colors promised in Vicky Christina Barcelona.

To Barbados, Bolivia and Bosnia because I know nothing about them.

To Bali and Mauritius so I can be a bum.

To Italy in search of that ultimate romantic.

To the Sahara desert and look around with different angles to see if I see a mirage.

To the USA because a sizable portion of my Gujju community is settled there and I want to know why.

To Singapore, Malaysia and Bangkok because they’re cheap to go to and cheaper to shop in.

To Afghanistan for I secretly wish to click pictures with the Taliban and become famous.

To France so I can finally make use of years of French lessons and live on wine and cheese and the irresistible aroma of freshly baked bread in the countryside boulangerie.

I want to travel because I have my own little ideas about the world and I badly want them to be true!

Or do I?