Tuesday, July 8, 2014

My Story of Street Barbers At Banganga Continues

once a year they come
with scissor and comb
for this spiritual rendezvous
a sea of barbers cascading
hair on view ..earning their
livelihood barbers of all
color and hue .the muslim
barber respectfully cutting
the hair of the hindu
pitru paksha prayers to
departed forefathers
hope and hindutva
as a message of peace
both devotee the barber
religiously pursue
passion fervor rituals
intimate sentiments
subdued ..pandits
chanting mantras
pind dan that was
overdue ,, the north
indian migrant ,
religiously tonsured
in a city in which
he grew mumbai
amchi mumbai
gives every man
his due ,,

We Are Both Malangs Of Ali

our eyes closed
as we walk his path
he makes us see
a world beyond
the realms of
mere mortality
yes we are
products of a
chant nade ali
we are healers
through pictures
pathos poetry
your blessings
your prayers
is our eternity
may god keep
you happy safe
ya ali.. love from
nerjis and me

I Fell in Love With This Woman Painted On A Wall

every time i pass her by
she stealthily sees me
with a face hidden beneath
a muslin veil she calls
whispers sweet nothings
this man created lovely
angel of a doll...at times
the poetry of my life
with her languorous
silence she assaults
in my shortcomings
she finds inconsequential
faults ..she wants me to
rise above myself..
but time and again
rebelliously i revolt
a poem a soliloquy
of my vagrant dreams
i must halt ,,