On my Birthday

The day has come to a reckoning,

the day of the forlorn awakening,

The day has come again this year as the fall

witness the foilage clamouring for your footsteps,

under which the leaves crunch to dust,

like me waiting in seclusion for the meeting,

again the day would pass under the bridge of time,

hardly whispering a second but a song of minutes,

Only if you could sing in the melodious voice of yours,

but the music is dead under the weight of its own symphony,

Another day would vanish but before I cut the cake,

and think about why this day came to my fate,

rendezvous with the earth!




Touch the dew drops of the rose garden

Wet the clenched hand with the tidings of the moon

The handful of skies be the pleasure of the cosmos


Does Taj Mahal too love?

Does Taj Mahal too love?

Dead wind that is blowing

Shroudless it says

In loneliness you breathe

two whiffs of air

The night would not go disgraced


The last lamp on the lampshade

Glowing on the street far away

Underneath which I contemplate

Does Taj Mahal too love?

Like lovers who never set

On the shores of chartered seas

Could they resolve the act of God

That there is love unseen

in shadow of light

That I call Godly sight

But at Taj Mahal

The lovers lie in nearness

In the shroudless night

Unfazed by the Godly might

Does Taj Mahal too love the frost it bites?


To lit the orbs of his lover

The Emperor built Taj Mahal

And in this separation of death

Is there a cup of mirth?

To celebrate the unison of love

In the robes of dissolved flesh

That lies buried in the earth

Does the Taj Mahal too love?


Yes it does! the love of flesh when becomes the earth

the earth too takes the lovers around the universe

like two specks on the pale blue planet’s hearth,

when seen far away from distant zenith

the lovers are forever  in rest  in the journey of the earth


The Pilgrimage

In the wakefulness of heart

And in a pilgrimage of still air

I Knocked and knocked on your door

And went on ruining the evening in disgrace

There were meetings between us

The flow that is in a sudden meeting

And in a sudden prayer

Has made me a saint of your door

And in making the time flourish

Here by I go away 

Knocking after knocking on your door