Unconsummated Night

How did the rainbow appear

When it didn’t rain?

The flowers in the painting

Over the bed

Smelt nothing like flowers

The huge mirror on the wall

Reflected only our enrapturing laughs

Not eager moans

Yes, you took your jewelry off

But not your clothes

Yes, I closed the door

But not to our fears

Those rosy pillows

You wanted to turn into saari

Didn’t fall off the bed

The wood witnessed our madness quietly

Without creaking with carnal frenzy

All night

We twisted and turned

Over each other in passion

But we didn’t create fire

We didn’t invent the wheel again

All we did

Was to find a small balcony

To watch over each other forever

The Girl Who Dances No More

She used to be mad about dancing

Her feet used to tap forever

To some unheard melody in her head

“One day

I want to make you

And the whole world dance, Muzammil”

She told me once

While making beautiful shapes

With her fingers

But now

She goes to work everyday responsibly

Rushing from one red-light to another

Without noticing the girl

Dancing madly on many roadsides

Eid Mubarak, Meri Jaan!

That morning

When you wake me up

And whisper

Eid Mubarak, jaan!

And I reply with a kiss

Khair Mubarak, meri jaan!

This is what you’re going to miss

If you won’t come tonight

There is no Eid without you…

Black Hole

Of all the countless dresses in your wardrobe

That finely fashioned black dress

Is a black hole to my galaxy

All my swarming thoughts

All my restive words

All my orbiting emotions

Nothing escapes

When you come wearing it

And ask me

“I am going to leave soon

You want to tell me something?”

All That Is Left Is You

Shut me in your eyes

Melt me under your skin

This world has lost its soul

All that is left is you

Kill me with your own hands

If love is hard to come

Resurrect me with your anger

This world has lost its soul

All that is left is you

The gardens of your words

Are full of red roses

Send me one

Revive me from the dead

Bury me in your arms

This world has lost its soul

All that is left is you

Cut through my ribs

Hold my heart in your palm

Read holy verses over it

Kiss me back to life

Come sooner

Take me away

From my dead life

This world has lost its soul

All that is left is you

Ugly Language

How does language become ugly?

When a child learns to curse?

When pain finds a cruel face?

Or when hatred finds a politician’s tongue?

How does language become ugly?

When religion finds a king?

When silence swindles money?

Or when faith creates an enemy?

How does language become ugly?

Language becomes ugly

When it forgets its true purpose

Birthday Gift

“Acha suno

Tumhe apne janamdin pe

Kya tohfa chahiye?”

“Tum”

“Kuch aisa maango

Jo tumhare paas na ho”