Friday, March 14, 2014

परित्यक्त ख़ामोशी

मेरे जाने के बाद अगर एक चीख भर भी बच जाए 
तो शायद बहुत कुछ कह गयी मैं. 

मेरे जाने के बाद अगर ये टीस भी दे जाए 
तो शायद बहुत कुछ कर गयी मैं.

मेरे रहते अगर कभी कभार ही सही एक विध्वंस होता सा दिखे
तो शायद नयी परिभाषाएं गढ़ गयी मैं.

मेरे रहते अगर ज़रा सा भी चैन कभी मिलता सा लगे
तो ज़रा सा ही सही ज़ायका ज़िन्दगी में भर गयी मैं.

Darts and quivers

I feel with every sunrise the texture of you
slowly being washed away 
from familiar streets and staircases. 

I scattered my soul 
to the drunken air 
above the sun beaten earth.
And quivering knees 
beaten and infected with hesitation 
slowly leaving footprints 
deepened by the weight of shame 

Love has shriveled its way
quietly and naturally to death.
From the precincts of cheap apartments and hotel rooms 
escape heavy air of heavier heaves. 

Everything seems drowned in that one gasp 
the one with together - with each other. 

Perhaps there was a purpose somewhere 
tucked between shared meals or beds 
Nesting between embraces, arguments and kisses. 

I hear and feel nothing. 

Warm tears wetting my cheeks, neck
entangled in my scattered hair - now lost. 

Only a sense of numbness 
etched beautifully into my skin 
deepened and deepening by the age of time - 
unravaged and uncaptured by memory.