चल आज वहाँ हम जंग करें ।

आँखों में आँखे डाल कर,
सूरज से भी, गगन से भी,
नीर, अग्न, पवन से भी,
जहाँ मृत हमारी काया हो,
चल आज वहाँ हम जंग करें ।

मेरी मिट्टी में समलित तू,
और तेरी चीता की छाया मैं,
आ अपना अपना हिसाब करें,
तू मुझमें आ मैं तुझमें आऊँ,
समय, समय से जहाँ लड़ता,
चल आज वहाँ हम जंग करें ।

है तिरस्कृत मेरा सिर,
तेरा सम्मान भी झूठा है,
चल दोनो नग्न, नतमस्तक हो,
इस धरा को साफ़ करें,
तू अपना लहू दे मुझे पिला,
मेरा हर क़तरा तू पी ले,
जहाँ कभी भी गहरी रात न हो,
चल आज वहाँ हम जंग करें ।।


New Arrivals

The brave ashes

On the sore of a river,
beside the ponderous forest,
from the burning dry woods,
they were born.

They smell poignant,
a grief that expanded,
from the dead wood,
till they’re burned to charcoal.

The whirling of them,
with the smoke feels like,
milk centrifuged in churning,

The black smoke with white ashes.
they travelled with the air,
from plants to plants,
from trees to trees,
from land to waters,
from everywhere to nowhere.

Some of ‘em just stayed there,
with the burning wood,
they found peace with themselves,
others keep roving.


From green flesh,
to the brown wood,
and to the burning,
then to the ashes,
is a journey,
which the brave ashes
keeps living after dying,
so many lives,
so many times.

Poetry Repost | A Nap in the Lap of Nature |Environment Day

For the regeneration of life,
A nap in the lap of nature,
a medicine, a therapy it is.

For all of our worries,
For a frustrated, an irritated mind,
a disturbed soul, and a fast beating heart,
A nap in the lap of nature,
Is the cure, a medicine, a therapy it is.

For a life, you beg for,
The calmness,
the peace and the satisfaction,
happens with the wonders of nature,
So real, to electrify your soul,
Regeneration of self-willpower,
A nap in the lap of nature,
a medicine, a therapy it is.

Poetry | Less Human than Human

We have always been less human than human,
In the glare of pathetic greed, we are leading,
Like never before, or like every Single time.

There isn’t any sign of togetherness,
Good deeds, a better past, or our glory,
If there is, it’s rare, so we share.
Shamelessly.

We don’t deserve what we have,
What’s bad is caused by us.
Despite we have been gifted enough,
We never cared enough.
I can’t cry for the humanity,
Coz, I never found it,
not in me, not in anyone.

But,
When a mother dies,
Her child in the womb,
Burnt in her life-giving shed,
It ruins every single existence.

Now, when it turns out,
You burnt her,
You killed her,
You did it for nothing,
Or for whatever.

When I consider myself,
as Human, as they, who did this,
this feeling of life touches
the shame of my existence.

The thoughts, the feelings,
You couldn’t feel, neither she could tell.
but the mud she painted on our human face,
will never fadeaway.

May God gift you to a better world.
“In the shameful existence of mine,
I write.”

Presence is You(Vide0 Cover)

In the glare of little sunshine,
In blossoms of pink daffodils,
With buckets of happiness,
Presence is you.

It’s you
in the first rain to the fists,
In the closed eyes of the nights,
It’s you – Seeking a heart,
to console, and to burn it.

It’s you
in the slump of dreams,
In the wonders of rains,
With the brand of stare.
In the rivers of romance
dissolved is you.

It’s you,
for an ever, to a forever,
and never to be never,
Presence is you.
It’s you for a forever,
It’s always YOU.

Poem Excerpts : The drops of Fog

Writing on leaves,
the drops of fog
some sublime poetries,
of life & lies,
burning and dying,
true love in the eyes.

Read the full poem ‘The Drops of fog’ here.

A Red, Red Rose -Robert Burns

O my Luve is like a red, red rose

   That’s newly sprung in June;

O my Luve is like the melody

   That’s sweetly played in tune.



So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,

   So deep in luve am I;

And I will luve thee still, my dear,

   Till a’ the seas gang dry.



Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,

   And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;

I will love thee still, my dear,

   While the sands o’ life shall run.



And fare thee weel, my only luve!

   And fare thee weel awhile!

And I will come again, my luve,

   Though it were ten thousand mile.

The beauty of Life

These mountains, a solid architecture,
a life with the green canvas, all over it,
like a bold green flesh, raised by the sun,
the summers, winters and spring passing,
it stays still, never complaining, about anything.

In summers, Sun melts him, like fire vomiting dragon,
his little trees and plants die due to illness,
lack of water causes death to beloved animals,
he keeps mum, waiting for the spring.

Spring and rain, their arrival, bought in happiness,
a joy to the jungle, little animals get their veggies and water,
but never settled, they get lands slides, some trees die,
some animals die, the rain wipes out his tears,
waiting for winters, never complained.

Winters arrival, the blanket of huge snow,
the beauty tends to flow, from the bottom to the sky,
flawless and joyful, the earth becomes cold,
Small roots of small plants, can’t bear it,
Some homeless animals, buried inside the ice,
he cries and smiles,
but never complained.

Nurtured by nature, the strongest,
the wealthier mountain knows,
The beauty of life,
sun and moon, heat and cold,
life and death, death and life.


The Misery of Pain

In the misery of pain,
the hurt beliefs of life,
never fought to forget,
What was causing it.

Never went for the fight,
Never stood to the right,
sitting in corner of the world,
Never spoke about the tides,
Which’re making him sank,
day by day.


One-line Poetry

“Heart whispers through the voices lost in silent winds of solace.”

“Never heard the Whispers of flowers, the stones remained stones.”

“In the lost tranquility, i still breath of unanimous trails towards peace.”

“Writing on leaves, the drops of fog, some poems of life, about smiling and blossoming, love in the eyes.”

“Written on her face, stories of her heart, can’t be heard but understood.”