• Her Town

    no matter how big the town is
    when someone you love lives there
    it feels like
    the whole town belongs to you

    its noises
    its flowers
    its trees

    especially in autumn
    when the leaves fall
    and i crush them beneath my feet

    their rustling makes me feel
    she is calling me

    when it rains in her town
    the tiny droplets
    feel like they are caressing my skin

    which she never did

    i used to walk
    through every alley
    every street
    hoping for just one glimpse of her

    just to see her
    even from a distance

    and my whole day
    would become divine

    there was not much else i could do
    when my number was blocked

    meeting her
    would have been the best thing
    after sunrise

    sometimes
    she would text me

    and suddenly
    hope would return

    i would think
    this is it

    a new beginning

    maybe now
    she will meet me

    but slowly
    those messages became poison

    because every message
    gave me something to hope for
    and every silence afterwards
    took it away

    she became
    both the wound
    and the medicine

    the person hurting me
    and the only person
    i thought could heal me

    i was never happy
    on an ordinary swing

    she moved me
    with her mood swings

    sometimes close
    sometimes far

    sometimes making me believe
    there was something between us

    i used to assume
    she loved me

    until one day
    i understood

    maybe i was only
    her escape

    a place she came to
    when the person she loved
    was too far from her

    and strangely

    like me
    she too was chasing someone

    while i was chasing her

    and without knowing it
    i had become part
    of a circle

    or maybe
    a triangle

    only god knows

  • Two Goats on the Run

    two goats
    escaped from the slaughterhouse

    decided to spend
    the rest of their lives together
    somewhere
    far from human sight

    they thought
    they would board a bus
    and go somewhere green

    somewhere natural
    where no wild animals dwell

    because wild animals kill
    when they are hungry

    humans kill
    and make sure
    you never get up again

    they reached the bus stop

    of course
    everyone saw them

    some laughed
    some stared
    some mocked

    they could not hide
    from anyone’s judgement

    even the bus
    refused to take them

    they did not have
    a goat pass

    soon
    they were all over the news

    two goats on the run

    but they could not run far

    they had dreamed
    of meadows

    of running freely
    through the grass

    eating their favourite leaves
    grazing
    like there was no tomorrow

    far from the sound
    of cutting machines

    guns

    sharp blades

    far from the place
    where they had seen
    their families
    friends
    and relatives

    for the last time

    they only wanted
    to live without fear

    to wake up
    without wondering
    who would disappear next

    but somewhere
    someone would find them

    and think of dinner

    to us
    they are only
    walking delicacies

    and here I am

    writing about
    their fear
    their escape
    their little dream
    of freedom

    shame on me

    I am writing this

    eating mutton

  • Happy in My Hand

    I found a stone

    with happy written on it

    when I went to the beach today

    out of nowhere

    it sat on a small cliff

    I picked it up

    and held it in my palm

    held it between my fingers

    but after a while

    it slipped from my hand

    and I realized

    happiness doesn’t last forever

    you cannot hold it for long

    you find it

    you feel it

    but it may not stay with you forever

    unlike the stone

    where the word happy

    is etched

    to last

  • The Crow and the Poem

    I came to the garden

    and sat there thinking

    maybe a poem would come to me

    just then

    a crow arrived

    cawing and cawing

    and completely broke my concentration

    I did not even feel like chasing it away

    I thought

    maybe this crow

    will bring me a poem

    it hopped a few steps

    across the roof

    and showed me

    a very awkward dance

    then it flew away

    and landed near the birds

    sitting on a branch

    of a nearby tree

    bumping into them

    and making them scatter

    just like the poem

    that was about to come to me

    I still wanted to watch

    what the crow would do next

    which direction it would fly

    whether it would return

    whether

    like my unfinished poem

    it would come back

    to the same roof

    and dance again

    like the thoughts

    dancing inside my head

    awkward

    out of rhythm

    but carrying some hope

    after a while

    the crow flew away too

    and right at that moment

    this poem came to me

  • A Quiet Place

    He said

    he wants to buy a house

    in a quiet place

    I told him

    everywhere is quiet here

    nobody is going to blow a trumpet

    in your ears

    while you are sitting peacefully

    in your room

    yes

    vehicles move

    a few horns

    children play

    dogs bark

    neighbours argue

    sometimes a husband

    might be ducking utensils

    thrown by his wife

    but that is life

    I thought

    you must have lived that life already

    and still

    you want somewhere quieter

    there are some places I know

    but silence comes with a price

    if you can afford it

    you can live far away

    from all the noise

    no one will knock on your door

    to ask if you are all right

    no one will preach to you

    no one will try to sell you anything

    neighbours may still argue

    but their soundproof walls

    will swallow every word

    dogs may bark sometimes

    when a stranger passes

    but most of the day

    even they will have

    nothing much to complain about

    I looked at him

    and said

    I am selling my house

    buy it

    and that is how

    I got a good price

    for my house

    but he must be cursing me now

  • Fireworks

    fireworks

    crack open the sky

    as if a piece of the galaxy

    is revealing itself

    for a moment

    the sparks feel

    as though they are falling

    into my eyes

    travelling down to my heart

    igniting emotions

    kindling feelings

    I had buried

    suppressed

    stomped down

    by the fear

    of being judged

    all eyes

    are glued to the sky

    jaws dropped

    wow

    delight is dancing

    over the sea

    boats glowing

    with colours

    the ferris wheel

    turning bright

    stalls

    games

    people swarming everywhere

    all kinds of noises

    mixing

    overlapping

    until the fireworks

    rise above them all

    crack

    after crack

    and I am there

    in the open ground

    like everyone else

    looking up

    watching the sky

    burst into colours

    while something

    I had kept quiet

    for so long

    bursts into colours

    inside me too

  • Fruits of Freedom

    they offered me

    roots of freedom

    I planted them

    hope grew tall

    and one morning

    I went looking

    for the fruits

    but someone had already

    reaped them

    heaped them

    shipped them

    to an island

    far enough

    to remain a dream

    the island was surrounded by

    stereotypes

    doctrines

    ideologies

    old values

    not even freedom

    could escape from there

    many sailed towards it

    in fancy boats

    with glam ideas

    and maps drawn

    by someone else

    none reached it

    somewhere along the way

    their boats became houses

    their anchors became roots

    their feet sank deep

    into the system

    yet every night

    they could still see

    the island

    so they reached it

    in their dreams

    walked barefoot

    on its shore

    searched everywhere

    for the fruits of freedom

    and found

    only seeds

    seeds they had been carrying

    inside their own minds

    all along

    then they understood

    the island was never far

    their minds were occupied

    and no occupied land

    can call itself

    free

  • My Little Boat

    I was carried away

    by the boat of love

    and somehow

    I ended up here

    anchored

    close to the shore

    waiting for someone

    to board

    summer passed

    autumn came

    winter came

    and my little boat

    was still there

    floating

    waiting

    just like my heart

    so I announced

    anyone looking for love

    come aboard

    I will row you

    to the other shore

    I will show you

    the whole scenery

    along the way

    and finally

    someone came

    she stepped into my boat

    and I thought

    this is it

    finally

    I have someone

    to row with

    but halfway across

    before we could even reach

    the other shore

    she saw another boat

    bigger than mine

    grander than mine

    and she jumped

    straight into it

    I looked at that boat

    then looked at mine

    and thought

    well

    I would have jumped

    with her myself

    what a boat

    but then

    who would look after

    my little boat

    this boat had waited with me

    through summer

    autumn

    winter

    I couldn’t just abandon it

    because something grander

    floated by

    so I let her go

    and stayed

    with my little boat

    because sometimes

    the smallest boat

    can carry

    the most precious thing

    yourself

    and besides

    solitude itself

    deserves a Nobel Peace Prize

    so here I am

    still floating

    still rowing

    because somewhere

    on some quiet shore

    someone

    might still be waiting

  • The Real Dream

    When I coughed

    everybody on the bus said

    bless you

    at the mall

    everybody held the door open

    one after another

    as if kindness itself

    was standing in a queue

    on the bus

    everybody was saying

    sit here

    take my seat

    I was sweating

    in the extreme heat

    one hand offered me

    an icy drink

    another offered me ice cream

    and many hands

    started fanning me

    with paper fans

    I was surprised

    shocked

    is everything all right with people

    what is happening

    then I thought to myself

    oh I am hungry

    I need to cook something

    I walked downstairs

    into the kitchen

    and just as I was about

    to chop some vegetables

    someone knocked at the door

    my neighbours were standing there

    in a queue

    holding my favourite foods

    all those aromas

    went straight into my nose

    and suddenly

    I woke up in another room

    a table full of food

    my favourite desserts

    presented so beautifully

    that half of my appetite

    was already gone

    just looking at them

    when I walked down the street

    hundreds of unknown faces

    stopped their cars

    and offered me

    a free friendly ride

    no thank you

    I said

    I prefer to walk

    and as I walked

    people came out of their homes

    hello

    good morning

    good afternoon

    good evening

    they greeted me

    with so much life and energy

    that even the birds

    I had just freed from their cage

    came back to meet me

    as if they too

    wanted to say thank you

    when I was working in my garden

    my neighbours arrived

    with spades

    garden tools

    flowering plants

    saplings

    and vegetables

    oh don’t worry

    they said

    we will make your garden beautiful

    we will work together

    and the next day

    I found myself

    working in their garden

    together

    we made beautiful gardens

    everywhere

    and there I was

    blooming fully

    in my own nature

    like one of the flowers

    among them

    then I woke up

    and said

    wow

    that’s what

    a real dream

    looks like

  • Where I Put My Enemies

    I had a friend

    whom I can only faintly remember

    he used to say

    that if he were a writer

    he would put all his enemies

    into a zombie novel

    so they could all die

    a painful death

    it made me wonder

    where should I put my enemies

    if I am writing a poem

    then I remembered

    oh

    I have neither friends nor foes

    all I am afraid of

    are people carrying negative energy

    the kind

    that makes my battery low

    even though I was bullied

    and humiliated in the past

    I can only place those souls

    on lotus leaves

    letting them show me

    how deep the pond was

    holding grudges against them

    would be like jumping into that pond

    with a huge splash

    only to drown

    in my own ego

    I would rather show them

    that I have been carrying

    those memories

    the bitter ones

    the sour ones

    trying to turn them

    into something beautiful

    practising kindness

    practising compassion

    and still

    if they answer me

    with their sharp beaks

    if they pretend

    they have forgotten

    the moments they served me

    I will not mind

    for them

    my poetic lines

    will always remain kind

    my hands are still open

    ready for a handshake

    ready for a hug

    but if they arrive

    carrying the same bad energy

    my poetry for them

    will be nothing

    but a bug

    just a bug