Terrorism is in fashion

1)      From Bangladesh to Brussels

         From Paris to Germany

         It’s #EOSS (End of season sale).

         A wide variety of Kalashnikovs,

         Rifles, bombs and what not

         are a real steal!

               

            

 2)      You know well,

         Guns don’t kill people

         People kill people

         And people marinated

         In terror activities

         Seldom have a face

         But a style, a trend

         Which know no border

         No boundary.

3)      Every time a place is attacked,

         The world gets fractured.

         Every morning people wake up

         Desperate to know

         Whether they’re still alive.

 

4)      In the end, all trends die.

         All fashion become passé.

         Everything is overcome

         And life is lived.

         Tell me if Peace is

         The absence of this ugly fashion.

5)      "The show must go on!"

          is a lot more than

         a kitsch pop battle cry.

hope notes

1.       Going on your first date, second and third that eventually turn into a wedding, aren’t you?

2.       Celebrating your first anniversaries, second anniversaries, fiftieth anniversaries aren’t you?

3.       Having children?

4.       And then grandchildren?

5.       Watching sunsets that never seem to end?

6.       Holding hands with someone?

7.       Watching your kids grow up from the size of a cauliflower?

8.       Watching your parents grow wrinkles and grey hair and curl with age?

9.       Wandering places to find something or the other?

10.   Being a superhuman to someone, aren’t you?

      

Because I hope so

Change your mind

You’re standing at the edge of the metro platform

with no intent to board the train but to jump off in front of it.

The platform is filled with all the shapes and sizes of strangers.

If you jump, they will be left with a forever connect with you.

Maybe you've ticked all the boxes in your head

of all the feelings you wanted to feel before you die.

So maybe you’ll jump.

Within micro seconds the train will hit you, smash you

And you’ll be a pulpy mess of yourself.

You might have calculated all the risks yesterday,

But who knows if you’d turn bad at math today?

I have heard that trains move faster thank you think.
So when you’ll jump

Those strangers will watch you fall

and will be able to do absolutely nothing about it.

Some will watch you fall and die. And they will be changed forever.

If you die, you may rest in peace while others won’t.

Your death will forever haunt them, and your ghost 
will never quit following them.

You’ll keep dying over and over again in their dreams,

and over and over again, they won’t be able to do a thing about it.

There must be something ugly about your life that has pushed you so far

that you’re standing at the edge of the platform

but just FYI there’s nothing that’s beautiful about suicide either.

There are many better ways to die.

So step back from the edge of the platform,

let your mind be changed

move way back from the yellow line, turn around and breathe.

If you see a clock there, don’t just see the clock;

do what it does. And keep going.

While you’re going away, think of 
the moment between your jump and the ground,

what if you changed your mind then?

Time doesn't exist, clocks do.

And the clocks are everything because of their hands.

From a time long ago, they haven’t been able to tie its laces.

This time when time tried to change, I changed myself.

I turned over and shake some strength, off my skin.

I figured how it had become weak and brittle

by getting over obsessions for certain people.

And it said it was always a matter of timing.

Certain people are a matter of timing.

Certain time is a matter of timing.

No matter you want them or not.

00:00 Hours

And the question is whether 0000 hours an emotion?

The world is getting drunk and sick about it.

Don’t worry; I’d been just drinking about you.

The arrow belonged to the heart,

So it came flying.

The apple belonged to Eve,

It went off chasing its chemical pleasures.

Chaos belonged to me,

So it dangled from my eyelids.

I wonder why you said

stars are born out of chaos.  

2014, Oh I never saw you coming.

I often forget the new ones coming in.

I'd still be sleepwalking in the city.

As the Earth goes back

to where it was a year ago,

I'd still try and keep not settling in.

The Earth begins with its new revolution

And me with a new resolution-

Mainly, to stick one thing in my brain

And write 2014 instead of 2013.

Anyway, Happy New Year ladies and gentlemen.

Time to hang this one up behind the door.

Paradoxical Wreck

I stayed under the moon too long.

I am silvered from

Collecting the names of the lovers

Who treated me like flowers

In those two arms

And threw sorry along with me.

Both crushed into a pile of memories

Of little and little more of their lives.

It’s a fact all that is silver

Doesn’t have a lining.

Not all those who are crushed,

Fade.

Sometimes you don’t need a line

But a fork to pick yourself up.

Especially, when that building came down

Before you could find a way out.

So, I cross my heart and

Find my place in a corner of

The elevator shaft.

These cold days of December

Burn brighter than the sun.

As I watch the elevator

Coming down, I realise

Why was time invented.

Slow and steady is the promise

While time unceasingly moves

In one direction

And usually heals if you let it.

Screw that, it’s paradoxical

That I break myself, to remake myself.

Like every other brilliant process

It takes time.

MIND IT

A loaded gun in your own hand may not kill you

but your mind loaded with the thoughts

of your lately wrecked relationship

can destroy the shit out you.

Even if it wasn’t a relationship.

Your own flesh tires you up.

Diligently questioning about

letting it revel in his

and for making a home in it.

Your own heartbeat stares you

outside of yourself, panting and

waiting for some clichéd answers

to calm it down.

Underneath your every breath,

You hear some soft lines

Of the poem he left 

In the corners of your mouth

while kissing the last time.

Your eyes forget to function

And take up different climates

From torrential downpour

To the dessert like dryness. 

 But they never forget to open up.

Every organ turns into

An explosive device

And that’s… that’s what it does to you.

 Every passing day you just

end up surviving the series of blasts.

meaningless name

SOMETHING 

SHAPED LIKE WORDS

 PERCHED ON MY LIPS,

 BURNING.

THEY HAD ASKED ME

THE MEANING OF MY NAME.

AND I COULDN’T GIVE THEM

ANY SPEECH SOUND

BUT A GASP OF DESIRE.

SIMPLY BECAUSE 

WITH EACH LITTLE THING

 THAT I DO,

I AM TRYING TO PERHAPS

GIVE IT A MEANING.