Windows

Every window tells a story
Some spin yarns, dressed
in lacy fairy tales, others are
saucily spiced, like the
crushed velvet they caress
while some, blinded by the
glare of the world, remain darkly
draped with insecure lies.
Somewhere a curtain is parted
friendly eyes beckon, but
explosive nerves only see
the frayed ends.

Published: Feb 2009

Drawn with Thread e-catalogue

Seven Art Ltd.

 

The Terror of Grief

I

She wept inconsolably
lamenting, not just the death
of her grandson, but a cruel fate
that robbed our lives of the
innocent honesty which
snuffed out his tender life
turning us into fearful
untrusting souls

II


Why aren’t the skies in mourning
How does the sun smile so cheerfully
when hearts grieve, and
are cremated today
How can you shrug off terror
with gratitude for protection
of you and your beloved
How can anyone be safe, ever again
when this heart bleeds
Broken into a million pieces
with each passing day



© Gopika Nath

The Mangled Remains [13.9.2008]

Mangled Remains
[13.9.2008]

Terror had struck again, claiming
unsuspecting victims of every kind
and there on the front page of the Times
of India, staring at me, pleading for peace
to avenge its unwitting sacrifice,
it seemed to say:

I gave up black for the benefit
of green, but nothing really changed
We still phut-phuttied along, barely
eking a living, aspired for but
couldn’t grab a space, in those
elevating walls of cement.
The shanties were our reservation

I remember the shock
of being thrown up into the air
and how my head smashed
onto the tarmac, wheels upturned
hitting the pavement, as the CNG cylinder
burst like a bomb, turning Gaffar market
into a panic-stricken hollow

Cowards were blamed for blasting
a peaceful neighbourhood, into this
ghost town of burning wounds
If truly at peace, wouldn’t
the silence have revealed mayhem
in minds, that passed by each day?

Did they ever hear my muffled screams
as I wobbled along, a comic character
on three wheels, gasping to keep up
with the sleek Toyota and Mercedes
pretending to be as cheerful as this
yellow cover, now blown to smithereens.

© Gopika Nath

Choir of Discontent [hinglish]

Laden clouds shed their burden.

Peepul droop heart-shaped leaves.

High on a limb, a black crow screeches

kaen-kaen, kaen-kaen, kya hai, yeh zindagi?

When we met in the realm of soul

did I agree to live in this darkness

Did you even ask, ke mere saath chalogi

zindagi ke uljhano mein? You

must have known, ke jo life

tum mujhe de rahe ho,vo kaisi hogi?

Refreshed with rain, green hearts

delicately flutter, whispering disdain

drowned by the indignant chorus

of kaen-kaen, kaen-kaen

Kyon laaye, tum mujhe yahan

kya paaya, iss kaale saaye se

jo na tik saki, yahan ya vahaan

rejecting, each notion of love

you compelled me explore

Asleeyat jaanti, toh kabhi nahin aati

aise aaeine ke saamne, jahaan

kaali hokar bhi, zindagi ke jhooton

se itni kam, ke koi reflection he nahin

nor illusions of being, toh iss

shareer ke anand, ka ehsaans kahan?

Jahaan, ek pal chaen nahin, apni

kaen-kaen, kaen- kaen, ke sivaaye

kuch kehna, ya sunna nahin

Kyon laaye mujhe yahan

aisi berukhi zindagi mein?

Kyon jagaaya ummeed, of

an impossible mission to live?

© Gopika Nath

Ashes [hinglish]

Kabhi sochti hu

tumse dil kholke

khoob sari baatein karu

Then I feel like battling

Sare gille shikve ka

Izhaar karu

Compel you

to appease my pain

Phir sochti hu ki bus

aur ladai nahin,

We’ve battled enough

Toh ab pyaar karu

But have you left me

the courage ke iss

kaabil hu

So jaungi aaj toh

laash jagane aoge

Ek bhi aansu tapkega

from those angry eyes

When I burn, will

Meri kahi and

Tumhari unkahi

also turn to ashes

© Gopika Nath

Whispers of Freedom

Get away
from this plodding stillness
of tantrums and affectations
posing for posterity
Tyres screeching from one time zone to the next
proposing newer and newer ideas for discontent

Breathe, beyond its stagnation
Listen to the wind as it whistles and trembles
whispering into every nook and cranny
Not those loudspeakers
blaring bhajans in the name of prayer

Be light and weightless
without the burden of remorse
Seamlessly flowing from
one season to the next

Published: Feb 2009

Drawn with Thread e-catalogue

Seven Art Ltd.

 

और कितने ? [hinglish]

They attacked an innocent weekend
in Hyderabad,
उनके आंसू अभी थम्हे नहीं
के अजमेर को आत्नक का सामना करना पड़ा
and as they reconcile
to the violation of a Sufi’s love
Ludhiana bleeds, as once before
when her turbans wrestled
How many, और कितने?
How many more, will we sacrifice
for the faith of peace?