You are blessed, you gladly become a compass to the other

You listen to silent spaces, release it afterwards to choirs across horizons

You are like homing pigeons; bring stories home to read together

You colonize, playing center to fragile corners of the other

You are hunters, of lost treasures in frayed pockets and laughter in worse moments

You light flames to warm hands on the most fragile nights

You let in spring filled wafts through cracks so it can carry away tears

You paint, your canvas seeps into the deepest ink of your hearts

You memorize footsteps, knowing the weary from the swagger

You pretend to laugh, at broken jokes

and cheer on at silly games

Your hands learn places that become your secret dwellings in each other

You go to war just so you can hibernate into a hug

You are foodies, lay out dinner in two places and then eat from the other’s bowls

You craft compositions, to string and hum into dreams

You decorate each other’s gasps like rain drops embellish roof tops

You are in perpetual love, the kind that inspires poetry

You rearrange life, snapping fingers for each other

The pilot in baritone

says he needs to fly around spaces

sounding confidently vague, forced

it must be how he was briefed

reminds me of the rhetoric

that stutters in our streets

our homes these days

he must have heard words

futile words, language

of  burning tongues

each syllable delirious

with avoidable political slew

meanwhile elliptical clouds

measure time

into a supple blue, easily 

crossing spaces, unbetrayed

I love my home in a resolute way

I wonder if he is one of those

enamored nationalists

it is fashionable, these days

I wish he would

focus, pay attention

stay assured

reassemble his journey  

I love my home in a resolute way

He regretfully announces

that he is now

moving into spaces

fragile spaces, lagoons

airspace defined once

as an ephemeral vastness 

has became incisively infused

with retaliatory overtones

I love my home in a resolute way

It is raining outside

the pilot declares that 

seat belts signs are now on

I tighten my belt, carefully

loose around my torso

and look outside the window

like exiled nerve endings

droplets painstakingly

linger onto the window

like your morning kiss

swallowed then into

the caress of cloudbursts

I wonder if spaces

have now blended

transcending questions

cannot tell though, a

stained window blocks

needs a scrub from outside

my view enshrouded

I love my home in a resolute way

He says he needs to land

only a 2 hour stop at Vienna

to refuel and recrew, rebalance

the gentlemen next to me

is snoozing, on his lap

an open Nida Fazli

I squint a peak

the sun gazes askance

Kabhi kissi ko muqammal Jahaan nahin milta 

kahin zameen to kahin aasman nahin milta

I love my home

in a resolute way

a muted way

an adamant way

 

®️©️Kashiana.wordpress.com

I have a graduate girl

And she gathered things to love

Things like hugs, kisses, warmth

Things like family, fights, fortitude

I wish her some more

Like a voice of fortitude

A tongue of humility

Like faith from afar

A time full of endeavors

Like conquest of all fear

Like notebooks that kindle a fire

I have a graduate girl

And I wish her reserves of resilience

I have a graduate  girl

And I wish her backpacks of possibilities

You raise me up

Taj Mahal

For 450 years

You raise me up

Hibiscus, limestone and jaggery to hold in memories

Tattoo’ed stories in the color of burning rubies

You raise me up

An embroidered cascade, in symmetry revealed

A lonely paradise of four rivers, bequeathed

You raise me up

Your serenity ebbs and flows, in untethered reflections

You unwavering stand, to the gaze of many affections

You raise me up

Like a kernel, you encapsulate shimmering breath

Like a shell, that has quenched a thirsty death

You raise me up

A love affair on the edge of a crescent moon

An idea of shadows, a vigil of love that swoons

You raise me up

Like a crest you make a flamboyant ascent

Standing stoic between a sunset and the river bed

You raise me up

Commotion walks in multitudes through your arched gates

A conviction shields your aura, undeterred by drama or debates

You raise me up

Magnetic you soar, over the solitary caskets of the 

The sky a canvass to the melody of your ivory white spread

You raise me up

Discarding labels, an interplay of so much with so less

An awareness inhabits moments, watching an unfolding of the watercress

You raise me up

Taj Mahal

Even if my love does not make sense of a construction of vaulted events

I do find a cause in you that continually endorses a deep truth about it’s torment

Conclusively I walk away, looking away from the towering minarets

At the corner, I see a rainbow framing you with a splendid pallete

 

®️©️Kashiana.wordpress.com

repetition

About you, when you flame the forest 

framing spring from the barren aravalis

a city

which drew it’s celebration from you every Holi

years ago

when orange shamelessly celebrated

uniting communities

when color had not become an ideology

gorgeously humble 

nondescript you surprise with blood red blossoms

leafless simplicity

transforms into an endearing riot

tri-foliage leaves

Brahma, Vishnu, Siva in renunciation

plumes divine

flowerets aplomb , crimson hymns of love

yin and yang

wild ornaments, medicine pods on crooked stems

weathering turbulence

unlike cities where tolerance needs permission

of the garden

where color is a river, red,crimson and orange

of the garden

where conversations are not about conflicts

of the garden

in which even flames melt into passion

of the garden

that was, before venom snaked into the roots of its trees

of the garden

tenderly standing in pain, of leaves losing their blossoms

fearful cries , the palash no longer bleeding bright

flame of the forest

do not be surprised

at the angry winds that blow

it is our burden to carry, we promise

to return to the sizzling treat

that is your blossoming

and the heartbreak

that leads to meditation

flame of the forest

let your virility

not be an aphrodisiac

to wild germinating weeds

let your majestic celebration

be forever indispensable

to our sanity

 

©️®️Kashiana.wordpress.com

NaPoWri Mo 2019

seasons and senses

 

 

The rhapsody of black and white

Fused lines between tassels muted and bright

At ease, a salt pepper palette of cutting edge

Goodness of an oversized mane or a quirky wedge

A paradoxical source of resilience and strength 

Breaking perceptions about monotony in length

Highlights a symbol of ageless pigments 

A contoured look, slaying with smudged vignettes

In fact, the grey mane is your splendorous mess

While the black warriors through daily stress

What does this trophy mean to you, why go this way?

Changes to, ooooohhhh how long does the silver stay?

I know each strang gathers stories, takes a brave fight

Completes my sassiness with a blend of poetic highlights

A way to live with ambiguity, and some non negotiables

One grey strand after another to shatter those fables

I started by just testing a thought, an imagined hypothesis

Succumbing to authenticity is easier than keeping up appearances 

What it means to embrace life as delivered, accept a glass half full

A cocktail of salt, pepper and autumns does create a palpable pull

 

©️®️ Kashiana.wordpress.com

NaPoWriMo 2019

day 24

choose a dictionary word – monochrome

Shrieking solemnly in disharmony

Wails darken the church sanctum

Like an opera crescendo

Interlaced with devil drums

Shattered prayers turned

Into ripped angel wings

That stay like velvet remnants

of an opera gown, on a once

opulent church ceiling

A choir solemnly surprised

Singing a last silent note

Easter in hell, Easter in hell

mothers who bit their tongue’s 

hold their prayers, as they watched

Blood gushing into pews and aisles

droplets of blood, a river, a river, a river

that drained all venom

that washed all the shards

decorated, dressed flesh

flesh of gutted bodies

into pews and aisles

 

They were praying

With all of themselves

Attentive to the message

Of resurrection.

 

As the rocking psychedelic 

Madness halted itself

It was noticed 

That a beast walked over

a purple slushy ocean

An entire city seething inside

it’s ominously bloated belly

 

It was also noticed

that the skies became overcast

With millions of butterflies

In myriad colors of rich disdain

They fluttered into the dusk

A waltz of life performed

As grandiose as there ever was one

 

®️©️Kashiana.wordpress.com

Day 21 and 22

Why

are you always insisting on Hindi

And when will you stop wearing the red bindi

I hate it when dad’s stories are only about the past

Why

want trauma, want trauma, of transition to last

Why do we stay marinated in perseveration techniques

And when will you start integrating without fatigue

I feel sad when you are distracted by yearning

Why

then did you tell, did you tell me, enjoy the learning

Why should you expect me to carry your weight

And when will you address the avoidance of fate

I tend to pull away when your face twists, feet stumble

Why

not heal, not heal, signature kheer with apple crumble

Why only call me out on my angst or anger

And when with you stop recreating an unreal candor

I remember when we started out at first, with courage

Why 

don’t you hear, don’t you hear, the conundrum of fear

 

And why don’t we have a conversation, you and I

Let’s meet for coffee today, you and I

And why don’t we have a conversation, you and I

 

appendages shredded, nothing

bookmarks life better, than scars, flesh

crescendos up my spine, and into

doors and windows, winter settles

enduring one bleak day at a time

faltering at fragile moments, 

gathering around acrid dumpsters

hungry, like starving insides

invoking courage, as I scour for food

just something, for the babies today

knowingly I succumb to my fears, steal

luck, left me bruised, a defiled loser

meals are more than dinner table debates

no, they are necessary for a mother to

own her assigned duties, and feel worthy

perhaps, next time the world is born, list

quest for survival as expectations under the

role portrait of a man, not prove manhood by

shoving shards into my womb, my ominous ribs

tsunami like remains of my esteem, now pledge

unlimited milk, honey and oats to feed the

voices of a million hands that shape context

wrongly scaled back, silenced by a loud trance

xtracting every circumstance, every vicious tear

yearning fulfilled, ceremoniously placed again

zealously into temples of force, betrothed

 

to survival, and sacred spaces

 

®️©️Kashiana.wordpress.com

NaPoWriMo2019

abcedarian

Part 2 – now

Nirbhaya now present in an unending sky

making space for your vast sadness

you nirbhay again,

cutting through the clutter

launch yourself into the pining moon

unflinching, you become the scar on her face

homesick you, malaise inhabits vastness

you nirbhay again,

walk your stength across starscapes

seeping your surety into black holes

and serve aphrodisiac to the sun’s courtyard

broken you, watch the morning colors

seep into your wounds

you nirbhay again,

are now there, where infinity begins

Part 1 – then

Never did my dreams shrink into a cocoon, nightmares don’t sit only in dark alleys

I overheard him belching again, echoing the devil from

Realms of shattered bodies and fractured souls

Beautiful physique, he declared today

Holding my breath, sick to my stomach

Afraid, it is happening again, violent penetrating words

Yearning ache, choked in crackling laughter

A defiant womb, I give back to you

 

Being Nirbhaya, I dare you ma

to unfurl your tandav

into his breastbone

Do not bring me your

crippling compassion

Nirbhaya, I hold my head high