Death

I am here, there and almost everywhere
Yet I am not acknowledged and am shunned from every place

Stoics/Sadhus are the only ones who acknowledge my presence
More of a facade, coz they tremble and my name make them lose all sense.

I've been assigned a role and diligent I am
No laurels no empathy only scorn and contempt.

I am Death and I am just a man on the job
I hustle to get things done and am always present for when Nature calls.

Been at it and will do so for eternities to come
Yet I do not enjoy what I see, but a job should be well done!

I've seen wars transforming green lands into black and red
I've seen towns out of a painting turn to rubble and dust

I've seen great men squirm and cry when I arrive
I've seen a child as brave as any, smile when his time has come

----
Have you ever seen the sky turn red?
Or the Sky turn orange or blue or gray or bloody red?

You marvel at such wonders
Then why blame Death, instead just surrender?

Life and Death are two sides of the same coin

Grandiose celebrations when life arrives
While
Mourning and Sadness when death arrives?
----
Let me tell you a little about myself,
----
I am the finish line of the race you began
With the stop watch in Life's Hands

I am the one with a heart
For what I witness is not for the faintest of hearts

I am overworked, for I am on call 24/7
I am Death and I'll complete every task I've been given.

(Inspired by Book Thief)

Spoils of War

We've been the spoils of war for both the victor and the vanquished
A trophy that was discarded once a purpose was fulfilled

We've been the spoils of war in the old days and the new
A medium for vengeance - exploited and lived only a few.

Should have witnessed the men as they marched into our lands 
Sparing none of us - we were cattle in the slaughter stands 

Should have witnessed them men transform into beasts 
Marching on forward gloating over their feats 

Did Jinnah pause for a second to ponder over the loss 
Did Nehru fear for his brethren and the impending loss

War Medals we were, with no place to call home 
Then came the government to call us back home

Caged like a bird, with wings clipped off 
With litter of our own - here the buck stopped

Where were they when Bauji was beheaded 
Where were they when I was dragged naked?

Where were you all, you leaders of our nation?
Where were you all, when your daughters were getting beaten?

The ones who went back were snubbed by their own 
Those left behind had no where else to go.

We are the spoils of war and we will be the death of you all.

Ma

Kya chod chali hain peeche tu apne
Isse khandar kahu ya ghar

Veraane main lipte kan kan saare
Shok main hain doobe yeh pal 

Soona pan ab gherne laga hain 
Hawao ne bhi bolna kuch band sa kar diya

Dil ka Alam kuch aisa hain
Toot ke choor main ab bhikar gaya 

 Sheehsa hoon main sambhal ke rakha tha tune
Kaha jaau dhoonde tuje, is tarah kyun chal di tu ma.

Ek dhaal thi tu meri is jahan main, ma
Hosla thi tu jab bhi uljha main kuch takleef main.

Woh pal yaad aata hain jab aankh moonde tu sooyi thi ma
Ek baar phir sehla de muhje, godh main phir sula le mujhe

Laut ke waapas tu kyun nahi aati, ma?
Ek akhri baar, tere gale lag ke roone de mujhe ma. Bas ek akhri baar.

Waiting for a Bloom

Summer rains are a comforting change,
Quenching the thirst of a parched plane.
Every drop speaks a thousand words
Of pain and love, both a powerful force.

Romantic, it may sound to a few,
Someone hates the sound of lightning coming through
Fearing the rain, they pray to the gods
Offering everything that they've got.

The sun has burnt their backs during the day
And they want to moon to stay
Days are long and the night shorter
For they've got to begin early with labour

Sweat and toil they bring together
Ploughing the land to yield better
Have caressed it long enough
While humming along the summer song

Waiting for the hardships to bloom
Time has come and they shall harvest soon
Thunder strikes and skies pour
Miseries around and the heart is sore

Romantic, it may sound to a few,
Someone hates the sound of lightning coming through
Fearing the rain, they pray to the gods
Offering everything that they've got.

Months of hardship is washed away
And so is the livelihood which was here to stay
His wife and children wait for him
Hoping to comfort for the loss so grim

He walks away in dismay
Knowing not about his way
Tightens a noose around himself
Leaving his son, heir to debt and despair.