From Lahore with Love

Collection of poems I have written in Lahore. Somewhat inspired by the Baba Bulleh Shah, one of the first modern poets of the Sub-Continent.



Unrequited Love

We stand ogling at reflections and shadows,
Playing “who blinks first�, playing a game of chicken!!!

If I could only say: “I love you!�
Nay, I correct myself, if I could only show my love for you

I oft gaze at the night-stars…and wonder:
Are we ever going to be like them…
Are we ever going to create a moment of splendour in darkness…

Or shall we remain as is – intransigent
Intransigent and hopeless –
Like two corpses bobbing on the sea of fate,
Like a dumb sadness…

We are of that lot – we are not who we are
We think of a step but we cannot move

Spectators, not players, we are consigned to oblivion

Tell me who I am
Tell me who I am

Ugly hooked nose
Nostrils I cannot breathe through

“A wan smile – you and your wan smile…�

Tell me who I am, please

Stink! Sitting in a pool of your own sweat…
Limp, vegetable, intransigent, intransigent



Travelling Incognito (Lahore)

Let it be between us
Let it be between you and me

I know you pain…
I pain with you… pondering the imponderable…

Let it be between us
Let it be between you and me

There he is searching for something –
Something he-knows-not-what (and his eyes seem much older than his age)

There he is cringing and laughing at the same time
There he is… on eggshells and crumpled paper…

Let it be between us
Let it be between you and me

Can you have nostalgia for a place you have never been to?
Can you have nostalgia for a place you have never been to?

Let it be between us
Let it be between you and me



Reruns

You’re painting in white, for your pallet-mix is white,
Each and every colour is white – canvass white

You’re exhausted:
Mindless TV is your refuge: “Sienfeld� and “Friends�

Relax, RELAXXXX,
Don’t forget to piss before you call it a night
PISSSSS…

You are asleep now – but when were you ever awake???



Prostitute

You are sleeping with Ghosts – sleeping promiscuously with Ghosts
Sleeping in a vortex, dehumanising – in your own skin (with pores closed)

Can you sing?
Can you dance?
Or are you offering to be sown in half?

Self-denial and spirituality mean nothing to you
I see straight through you

I see you naked on a poster – you whore
And what do you see?
Do you watch me watching you cry?
No, I hate you!!!

Except I hate myself more…

I liked myself 5 minutes ago
I liked myself more 10 minutes ago
I liked myself
I used to like myself
I used to like myself