The contender

There are poets, the innate ones
For them words flow effortlessly
Then there are poets, the contenders
For they search words seamlessly

I posited a natural flair for poetry
Sadly, a little overrated self image
For the ones with inherent artistry
Verses are their ultimate salvage

Days roll by in pursuit of a thought
When I fix on one; the lexical dilemmas
Sorting through it, the essence is lost
A mishmash of colons and commas

So, dear readers when I put pen to paper
Do remember, I ain’t the innate poet
My works are that of a worthy contender
And I hope these lines really validate it!

Mohabbat…Khuda ki azeem takleeq!

Mohabbat ne ek baar khuda ke dar par dastak di
Sehme huye nazro se, ghabraye huye labo se
Awaaz lagayi, Aye khuda, mujhe kya kismat di?
Log mujhse paresha hai, main unke diye zakhmo se

Mujhe tuney uljhaya ya insano ne khabar nahi
Magar mujhe woh samjhtey nahi, parakhtey hai
Kehte hai main kamal hoon, main agar hu wahi
kyu yeh ishq mein haartey hi mujhey badnaam kartey hai?

Dastaan e ishq kamyab huyi toh main jannat hua
Koi haasil na ho saka, toh yeh jannat hi zeher hua
Main woh nahi jo yeh kehte hai, main bay aib hoon
Main toh teri sabse azeem takhleeq, tera ishq hoon

Khuda ne muskura kar kaha, barkhurdar naraaz ho
Haan maana yeh masoom tumhe jaan hi na paaye
Tum mere aks ho, yunhi nahi iss qadar sarfaraz ho
Mohabbat ho janaab, woh noor jisse khuda mil jaaye!

Opening the floodgates of memories…!

I held on to the box of memories
Safely tucked in, you casted a smile
A mesmerized reality, unsnapped
Making way for an unrequited past
Your smile, it enraptured me then
And today, overwhelmed by agony
I wrap up my scattered thoughts
Of what could be, yet that couldn’t
Just then someone asks, “All okay?”
I let – off the box, with a faint smile

Our kids deserve better answers…

Children must be taught how to think, not what to think.
― Margaret Mead

“Do you know who created God?”
And I was like, Oh my God!
The angelface next door
let her imaginations soar
“Mommy said He created all,
but he too must have been small
Played like us and jumped around”
I sank, as she spoke her mind out aloud

Then, an outpour of innocence,
That drove me into silence
“Ma’am I finished the race, fine
The first three names aren’t mine
Please could you tell me my position?”
Asked my student, with zero inhibition
The answer was easy, the inquiry – unique
“Next time child”, was all I could speak

We the ‘adults’, self -proclaimed experts
Oh! How smoothly we intend to divert
The unthought of ideas, kids naively pose
Ironically we act unaffected, while it shows
That deep down it pricks our wherewithal
To yield answers, so we hem and haw
Instead of pulling in ears to their wonder
One day maybe, we’d put forth
“Let’s find this out together!”

When poetry met prose…

Poetry ran into prose accidentally one day
They greeted each other with a few lines,
Poetry remarked, “Hope the words are in best order”
Prose replied,” Hope you still find the best words”
Their rendevouz left subtle lexical imprints there
As the two surged ahead on their literary quest..!

Life’s libretto…

You can define,
Future as a burden
You can lament,
Yesterday’s blunder
Yet, why do you forget
Today is a canvas
Sketch your dream
Let them glow with hope
Sprinkle some magic
Oh! And some shades of reality
Feel it, live it, create it!
Life’s libretto is such
It’s you who composes
And it’s YOU who sings along!

Two worlds

I ain't like you
I've never been like you
You've made your own choices
I've abided to other's voices
You strive to carve a niche
I silently fulfill their wish
Your opinion, it holds value
Nobody ever sought my view
Sky is your limit, you know
My world's periphery - the door
Though contemporaries, You and I
I only exist, you simply thrive
Remember, your feat pacifies me
That my friend, you are blessed and free!