My dedication to word play remains despite June heat  .you gotta appreciate my summer pun.

Do I know what is opposite of haan ?

Naah !

The precious mined

The precious mined

Scraped from the raven rocks
The gravel gets chiselled fine
Softly and deeply once it is mined
By the thoughts that erupt in mind
Till the glitter bejewels the night
She often adorns my black pillow
With the twinkle in her pent up sky
And leaves behind her dew on twigs
Sometimes within her cloudy veil
She hides her jewels and smiles
And still steals my stifled breath
With the foam of her mad waves
That gush deep within her throb
But she remains serene of visage
When the masks become a face
How do we check the countenance
For every mood is the real deep her
While she keeps everyone at bay
Even when you dived deep within
Drenched into her marine world
Her bed that lies full of glitter
Of precious jewels of every kind
Her waves glitter on the face too
And I lie on the shore to touch
The sand she leaves perpetually behind.

Delhi
00.25 hrs
1864
21.6.20

The flowing rock

The flowing rock

Sitting molten on a still rock
Amidst sonorous desert dunes
Where cacti manage to bloom
Faint reflection of floral bounty
Tied by a strand of my own self
That holds the stacks together
Which otherwise would fall apart
And flow into the passing life..
Weaving songs of silence
Painting a  blank canvas
Counting the sky between stars
If only you can perceive !

Delhi
23.11 hrs
16.6.20
1863

The lost lock

The lost lock

Searching in the brighter corners
Where nothing was ever lost
I found a key lying amidst rubble
A key that baffled with its silence
Content without the answer of lock
For it never asked the vital question..
Instead of the joy this key brought
The tantalizing thought of the lock
Treasures that were secured in bosom
Suddenly it was not the key I had found
But the lock I had lost somewhere
The possibility of a lost opportunity
Obliterated the joy of a simple kind .
Not all roads lead to somewhere
Like the unsaid word of a poetry
Which gives to each heart it’s key
It brings out the inherent pain
Uncovers the layers of pretence
For the lock was of the mansion
That has now turned into a rubble
Of the woven nest of dreams
Amidst which the key is found.

Delhi
1862
1.0 hrs
14.6 .20

Me no menu

Me no menu

Khatta paneer
Paneer pasand'na
Lace lace bhindi
Daal makhi ni
Khokhala chana
Go'bhi munch'urine
Door Rakha pasta
राढ़ा chicken
Mutton rogi josh
Mirchi salon
Gol gappein
Baasi fresh lime soda
Cold drink do pyaasa
Keeda kheera
Naan nahin
Missing roti
Kachua paratha
Khyali pulaav
Faila hua raita
Fafoondi raita
Farty papad

The crow story

My pet crow started his week over Mon blues and slogged it out till Thurs’tea. Since he was feeling thirsty he went to a crow bar. There he could stick around without a button and his tiredness..so he became a well’crow. Then he met a she crow who caught what could he'throw. She was upset over his talking and made him pay for Caw'fee. After partying hard he returned home. Now my crow soft.

In memory of  Goa trip..whole day at bar and tan at sea. Now also only bar'tan

The Arab cooked an imaginary Chinese dish . They called it Sheikh chilly

The tummy Stories
Participate( party see pate )Checking how obese everyone else is at thd party
Emancipate ( imaan see pate ) checking an honest belly
Constipate ( kaun si tea pate ) checking which tea suits tummy
Inculpate – the blame of assuring oneself of thinning down tomorrow..every day
Exculpate – remembering the tummy of ex in yesteryears
Anticipate ( aunty see pate ) finding an aunty getting fatter everytime u meet her

The ripple waves

The ripple waves

The pebble drops on horizon
After a day long dazzle on sky
The ripples erupt from infinity
They come rolling on my feet
And carry back in their foamy bag
My faint foot prints from sand
Did you find me walk on horizon
Amidst the moon kissing  tides
When the vexed sea turned silver
Seeking respite between swallowed sun
And the residue of my dreams .

Delhi
1861
16.42 hrs
7.6.20

The difficulties tried to tie him down within but he could in'no'wait

For this whole month it’ll be june'noon àt 12

The under swollen

The under swollen

The vessels of these eyes lie capsized
Brewing waves within their periphery
That resonate from within dried sand
Replica of humongous desert dunes
It’s an under swollen tide that deserts
The waves of memories can only perplex
But it is the tide that saddles boat on sea
Spurred by wind the gallop plunges high
The gush of madness moves the world to moon
Here the bubble that is burst without sound
The prick of truth is painfully silent and still
The fermenting life for months comes to nil
The cradle sized groove remains engraved
Perpetually into the yard of mourning mind
The worn out sails add colour to greying waves
That carry white froth as they come to touch
Many a still vessel on a still agitated shore
That flows through brine and shine alike.

Delhi
1859
1.6.20
22.23 hrs