Saturday, 27 April 2024

The return of shepherd

 

A familiar knock on door

Breaks years of silence

The thud breaks an awake slumber

The binding fetters are stretched

They became rusty with the years

Of surrender to the choice

Only since everyone was tied

Actually there was no choice

Between forms of submission

A ruminating of the same cud

In quest of new essence eveytime

The pale that appeared to quench

Rather parched the little oasis

One mirage led to another

Till it was the edge of horizon

And the hoof was struck in grass

That sprouted often on marshlands

Struck in the slowly sinking ship

The swimmer is unable to escape

Now the knock amidst static layers

Proclaims the return of the shepherd

The one who guides the herd to barn

Amidst the jingle and trot through beaten tracks

His hark to the ears and thud with the stick

The Master who weaves symphony to crescendo

Also listens patiently the feeble silence

Of those with an unsure trot in herd

Those who awake only with His knock.

Delhi

17.54hrs

2142

27.4.24


Friday, 26 April 2024

The dawning dusk

 


She is bright in her dusky visage

Eloquent with her silent smile

The evening blushes with innocence

Aware not of what makes her awkward

Other than the aura of her soft charm.

The heat of the day still simmers

Within the swooping lid of the night

Just before the eventual plunge into dark

The twilight tugs at the soothing night

By diving her sight in the silvery grass

Seeking from where the rustle whispers

Her eyelashes cover the ring of her sight

After many an hour of  deep rumination

She pulls the strings to beckon pouring stars

They spray the dreams in color filled eyes

When she decides to open her eyes

The Creator  conjures up a fresh morn

And awaits her magic in dusk again.

 

Delhi

23.49 hrs

2141

26.4.24

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday, 21 April 2024

The Numah Lamina

 


There was a contagious thought that spread when everyone slept at a common hour in the wee hours one night. Before we venture into that, the current situation is a little different ans I take you into my weird story.

The civilization has  strangely evolved in a little barbaric form . Here the development of animals has outpaced that of humans . In fact , this has given the beasts a reason to rule over us .

It is a common sight to find men lift the heavy stuff , dragging with all their might and getting whipped by some bull even as they struggle . Their nosestrills bleed with mucus and veins throb on forehead owing to sheer physical stress. I forgot to add, some rope string also runs down from nose rings to ease control by the bull. Sometimes the men also release their shit when whipped under a tremendous weight. When they eventually reach home they are tied to a small stump . By now the men have given up and fear the consequences of uprooting the stump . Towards the evening often they are forced to copulate by their masters . The ladies are pricked with injections to improve milk produce.  But their infants are dragged away from their right and  kept afar from moaning moms. Then the mothers are milched for food of other beasts . Sometimes the machines slice a little deeper and some blood and puss also oozes out . But who bothers?!

 Some humans are also imprisoned in public cells that are called zoos. Animals line up to see humans closely . Some mischievous children aim stones , throw waste and food inside the bars. The humans react and question their fault for being in this plight , much to the jeer of animal kids. Some of thr humans are kept in small baskets or boxes of glass, from where they try to rush out , only to fall back . This strangely evokes a lot of fun among the beasts.

There is another form of imprisonment, when animals put humans in a smaller prison that are called cage. Then they keep the men and women in their own homes . Sometimes they forget to attend to the humans. The humans are often kept away from food to teach them a trick or to obey the command.

If by now you thought this is cruelty, wait for the next one. This is a slaughter house, a murder industry that is legalized and profitable . Any human that is loitering or is obsolete owing to disease or old age is dragged by hair ,ear, cheek , neck or  whatever comes to grip. People are then stuffed into a truck carrying heaps of them. If they do not climb the truck , they are beaten mercilessly,  often a rod shoved up from behind . Somehow or the other they are  battered into submission. Then they limp into the death vehicle with no choice. Even in this industry the small babies are a preferred delicacy . Their souls smashed , they get carried to a butchery The pain of departing from family and home is diluted immensely in next few hours only because of a barbaric torture that awaits eagerly. Turn by turn their limbs are tied by a rope that doesn’t give way despite immense force that tries to break loose. Then the ends of rope are pulled together to make us fall in front of a blade .

There are differences that God “ allows “ us humans to be murdered. Either stabbed in a flash or with every vein and sinew is slit just to puncture it delicately , drop by drop life oozes out of body . Interestingly , there is a difference of opinion on what is the acceptable mode of this murder and often animals Clash with each other to establish their belief. For humans it is a difference of a few minutes from eventual slaughter only.

Not to talk of tanneries,  labs , hospitals,  and every possible way the animals brutalize us for their benefit and comfort.

Our infants are the source of juicy leg pieces, sometimes they are said to be grown artificially ..but they have llife.

The numah lamina, or the reversed form of human animal, waits for this weird night to end . A dawn that begins with the free chirp of birds and animals free to start their day without the benevolent humans. The word human is more terrifying than brutal, somehow.

 

Delhi

23.31 hrs

21.4.24

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday, 19 April 2024

The prey

 


 

Clutched in claws

Bitten and smitten

Eyes gouged

Hair pulled

Shredded to bits

She could not shriek

Amidst the forced kiss

She could not kick the demon off

For they locked her feet

By their caressing hands

And bolting fingers

They scooped her parts out

Bit her and laughed

Showing her the helplessness

Making her pay for grazing in meadow

Till her gory wounds gushed out

And she blushed to redness

One last time on the bed

Everytime she climbed her bus

The daily bus to office .

 

Delhi

23.18 hrs

2140

19.4.24

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The capsized topple

 


 

The flame I ignite within

To set my inner self ablaze

Recoils upwards and glows

Fuelled by my soul

The glitter that shines below

While the sky is charred to brown black

Oh my vessel is capsized

Oh my vessel is

The eyes that look down fund sparkle

And the sky is hidden by the keel

My arms ache when lifting the boat

And dragging it with me

A horse riding his jockey

What if I would have allowed

Myself to go adrift with the tide

Saddled on the galloping boat

Then the world would have wowondered

While wading with lifted boats

That my world was a capsized one

Carried by the weightless soul

And thriving on the flow of faith

Without an oar in hand

Without carrying the weight of vessel.

 

Delhi

2139

22.47

19.4.24

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, 17 April 2024

Adjacent to the infinite horizon

 


Amidst cheers in the wooden stands 

The waves erupt on the fickle shore

And clap with their chapped palms

One wave clashed with another

To applaud what unfurls at the horizon

The drops that now glitter at infinity

Held arms together at the shore 

Sometime back which was not long ago

Together we had preserved the bubbles

And crossed the white sands in our pranks

Now the dazzle of sun towards horizon

Blindfolds the eye that has stayed back 

Lost in wilderness of rudderless waves

While the tides have pushed the margins 

Far beyond  what the oars can muster 

For the shoulders that froze on shore

Struggle to applaud from the wooden rafts

That had resonated for the now lost me

Sometime back that feels like long ago

My drops remain stranded on the muddy shore

Trapped in the whirlpool of ripples

Awaiting for a sigh of stooping breeze

To pick the sandy drops to filtering clouds

And spray the mist beyond the infinite horizon.

Delhi

11.31 hrs

2138

17.4.24

Tuesday, 16 April 2024

 

रौशनी में बयां कर गयीं माथे की सलवटें

जो राज़ थी बुनती रात भर की परेशाँ करवटें

Wednesday, 10 April 2024

 

I wanted to appreciate eloquently the art patterns made by glass pieces but mosaic baat na nikli

The pre mortem

 


The spell has to go  on..

Either through wand

Or as a folk lore

The charm of life never fades

Like an oversqueezed wick

Ignited to every drip

The cracking flicker every moment

That brightens the world around

And dazzles in the process

The rubicund sun that dips

In the inviting arms of terminus

Much with the blush it had dawned

The bubble that bursts on shore

Without a regret of time

For every moment has been the last

And it has shone the best every instant

Reflecting the sky and the sun

In its little vibgyor perpetually

While the world awaits the shiny rain

To see the rainbow swing from heavens

The bubble softly bursts and ceases to be

The life has been so full throughout

That it cannot die ever

Like a bunch of dangling flora

That adds a bud every often

The vase of branch is fresh and full.

 

Delhi

22.17 hrs

2137

10.4.24