poems written under the influence of modernism and existentialism :-) back in 2003

the human apocalypse

there was darkness at noon

the screaming scavengers

restless pursuit...

the sun eclipsed

the moon turned bloody

the trees devoid of life nourishing sap

the graves upturned

skeletons strewn across the wasteland

oceans retracing tsunamic steps

rivers parched to thirst

sacrificing babies at desperate altars

sisyphus pushing the boulder uphill

i walk on, pained at my own aching tooth

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from womb to tomb

the umblical cord has snapped

and i see myself in the mirrors of the world

trying to identify with that woman

On Razor's edge, would i be tested?

would i be blown in a thousand directions?

while the delicate glass is moulded

shall my spirit overcome uextinguished

Do i dare trust humans

with faces out of kaleidoscope

one shade less, one hue graver

Teddy bears won't be soft anymore

scaring me with that carnivorous teeth

the eyes of fairies not so benign

as their hardness would gnaw at my heart

solidified tears  would refuse to fall

choked voice humiliating me

while depth would be equated with cowardice

would I forever be procrastinating?

in this journey from womb to tomb

or like the protagonists of many plays

"I can't go on, i will go on.."

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in praise of the resilience shown by afgani women : a poem

Do you remember all those wounds on her body and soul?

when she was pulverised like bamiyan buddhas never to again become whole;

incarcerated in veil, with a merciful one-way window to the world,

silence was rammed down the throat of the singing bird.

denied all laughter, hope, song and even the fresh air,

she was expected to deliver, in dark rooms, the male heir.

her face corrupts, they explained, her footstep excites,

shaming her for the raging lust that within them fights.

her thumbs chopped off to teach the lesson to painted nails,

kicked in flank and shin, for venturing out, unchaperoned by males.

when her flight was cut short midway, with Kalashnikov's aid,

who could have thought that of much stronger stuff than bamiyan stones she was made

that not only she, in all fortitude, survived the night,

but rose from her incinerated self to make her nation see the light

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