Friday, July 16, 2010

My Fucked Fate Line

partly
here partly online
nothing seems fine
as i grumble and whine
astrological anomaly
frustrations divine
ying and yang
on my karmic soul
combine how
can i hold on
to what is not mine
old broken bottle
leaking new wine
facebook flickr twitter
am i really
offline

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The Silhouette of the Hijab

the silhouette of the hijab
the human soul cannot duck
on western shores
a sitting duck
the hijab
a garment of modesty
a muslim womans
good luck
stuck
in the middle
of this road
like this truck
lightning struck
a poetic thought
at work

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The Hijab at Cross Roads

a myth
on western
shores
explodes
a garment
of modesty
a poem of peace
within a picture
uploads

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These Are The Hijras I Love To Shoot

over ripe
pulpy
fleshy fruit
these are the hijras
i love to shoot
they are not sexy
they are not pretty
they are not cute
they are the hope
of humanity
at grassroots
they are the hijras
the cops
the local goonda
loots
fucking them
free hammering
them homophobic
brutes
the hijra is human
beneath his
birthday suit
from one
corner of pain
to another corner
of despair
he commutes
hijra poetry
part of my
creative angst
my pictorial
pursuit
these are the hijras
i salute

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This Man Is My Brother Too

i am a muslim
he is a hindu
we are one
same blood
same nationality
it is true
our religiosity
is a spiritual
smokescreen
a personal
prerogative
we both pursue
he respects me
i respect him
each giving 'the
other his due
he is a beggar
low in the hierarchy
but i am a beggar too
he says om shanti om
i say allah ho akbar
a single divinity
we respect and revere
both members
of a human zoo

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The Silhouette of the Hijab

under the arches
of hope and humanity
she lies in wait for
a better future
a better fate
knowledge wisdom
pillars of peace
a world without hate
while she stands here
safely elsewhere
bombs
on the soul of Islam
detonate
a mosque comes
crumbling down
crushing skull caps
bleeding scriptures
bodies in crates
a eunuch silence
resonate as they
with faces covered in
a mans hijab
the name of the Maker
desecrate
destroying
what he creates
hook line sinker and bait
Allah Ho Akbar
God is Great
the newspapers
electronic media
across the borders
wait for
the latest update
misguided jehad
misplaced martyrdom
to state ..

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The Last of The Boot Palishwala

One day they will be
a fading memory
soon they will be gone
from railway platforms
the place where their
story was born
their going away
nobody will mourn
brand new boot
polishing machines
brand new railway
stations will adorn
time in a hurry
in funereal silence warns

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