Moharam in Hyderabad 2014 A Set At Flickr.com

All at Flickr

I Shot The Pain In His Eyes

do memories
live after one dies
are there really
vestal vigins
in a muslim
paradise
the flesh was
willing the spirit
cries to free
itself from the
shackles of
mortality it
tries .life
a fruitless
sacrifice
dreams
doomed
nothing
survives
a fallacy
an idiocy
to be or
not to be
alive

We Are Muslims

invoking his name
his munificence
his omnipresence
his benevolence
we trust him begging
on the streets dark
precariously grim
a few coins hurriedly
they thrown at our feet
a charitable whim.
will our lives change
chances are slim
endangered hopes
our wings trimmed
if only muslim men
could just be like him

Aging Gracefully

so many summers
so many winter chills
those rainy days when
i fell ill watching dark
clouds threatening me
as i stood against the
window sill a voice
called out from within
the heavy laden curtains
janoo did you take your
diabetic pill .. a voice
of love a voice that
guarded me through
her prayers from every ill
silence soared as time
stood still i was reaching
out to the other shore
against my will leaving
her behind as my eyes
with tears filled the shaking
saucer of my reverie as
the sweetness of her tea
on the poetry of my memories
spilled an urban landscape of
shared solitude no mountains
no lakes just silhouettes of
molehills savoring the aroma
of her culinary skills ,,,