Morose Existence

Why does the heart
Want to wallow in grief
For no apparent reason
The mood is sombre in brief

Kneeling in obeisance on your grave
With a prayer on the lips
Renders a sense of being afloat
Lest my life is akin to a sunken ship

The worldly relations so shallow
Require precise balance to maintain
Ties of blood never seek equilibrium
Neither, one has to ever feign

Though homage to the ties so profound
Often as an afterthought all pay
They are all ears for emotional quandaries we share
Even in absentia or otherwise slain, to allay

Fear of the impending tribulations
Sends shivers down the spine
With none to resurrect my crumbling morale
Battling solitude is my bottom-line

What’s my calling?

What’s my calling?
To face dejections appalling
Few discover it late
Mine continues to evade

My pricking conscience
Without being pretentious
Questions the soul
Is it justified in expecting a dole?

None to haul over the coal
Whoever with a nonexistent goal
and lackadaisical attitude, the life path stroll
Success keeps a distance of a barge pole

Each one is blessed with some aptitude
Lame are excuses of Ineptitude
Rust gathered must be shorn
To put to use, skill ought to be honed

Let go of the mundane rigmarole
Creative pursuits shall put you on a roll
A little effort and jostling
Of the mind, unravels a genie named “calling”.

Forlorn Souls

Three forlorn souls
In different isolated nooks
Sullen in their heads
A life of dissidence brook

Reticence being the hallmark of the two
Delving into their minds, none could do
Tantrums and disdain for the third
Forms their agenda without a cue

Surreptitiously stumbling across searches
Gave an insight into an unnerving scare
Could it be manifestation of depression?
Does this symptom not even adolescents spare

Laying down expectations in vague terms,
Lot like a puzzle to unscramble
Only to show aggression and outshout the other
Upon failing to decipher the cryptic tangle

The key to any form of rapport
Stems from exchange of thoughts
Loathe they both, exercising their vocal chords
This bridge of Communication was long lost

Underlining inadequacies isn’t always an eye-opener
Respect and restraint forms the crux of every bond
All relationships need constant nurturing
Cohesion cannot be forged with a magic wand

Amorous Glances

With a sense of guilt
A demure glimpse meets her eye
Causing a flutter of the heart
At an age so ripe

Statuesque in stature and persona
Exuding oodles of charm
In exchanging fleeting glances
With her, I saw no harm

With equal panache she carries
A sporty look and traditional style
Rendering the air with exuberance
Her distinct voice makes my day worthwhile

Barely does the heart gets transfixed
Like a moth to a flame
Unless the magnetism is genuine
Desire to get consumed, you can’t quite tame

Throw caution to the winds
A call rings in my ears
But the mind never lets loose
The leash out of fear

I introspect on the disparities
Looming large, that sets us apart
All aspects of which seems blasphemous
Even while visualising a relationship to kick-start

Gone are the days to evince amorous interest
Though a hard fact to swallow, acknowledge I do
And lower my gaze when she crosses path
Not to go the route deemed taboo

The Martyrdom of Prophet’s Family – Tragedy of Karbala

When the army of the Prince was no more
Thirsty, it had departed to Kausar’s shores
His friends slaughtered, His family destroyed
The home of the Prophet was plundered to the core

No brother or friend or loved ones remained
Two sisters to mourn, and there was Husain

Earlier in the day, sons and friends were around
By the afternoon, everyone was gone
The sun blazed, wind blew, the desert scorched
Tents flapped in the wind with a desolate sound

Husain was surrounded, alone in His pain
A commander with no army; all had been slain

“Why delay Oh death?” In misery He asked
“Why must I live after Ali Akber has passed?
Every moment now feels like a lifetime to me
Now only in death will my pain pass

“I should have died when I watched Akber being killed
I should have been beheaded, that is my will”

“Yet I remain, I live, after everyone has died
Alone I shed tears with no one by my side
Enduring the loss of my sons in this war
In my old age to bury them, to mourn and to cry”

“No son by me when I succumb to death
No support if I stumble, no place whereon to rest”

Then He glanced at Akber’s body on the desert sands
In agony He clutched his chest and cried in pain
“Oh Akber you rest, your hair on the dust strewn
Come help me, I am falling, rise from death’s daze”

“In death’s slumber you forget your father my son
Say your prayers with me under the blazing sun”

“From the banks of the Furat, Abbas come to me
The heat blazes on my wounds, I’m thirsty, come see
Sprinkle water on my body, if you happen to find
I’m dying, say goodbye, come to me, come to me”

“In death you sleep soundly, what can Shabeer say?
May no one be as wretched, to God I pray”

“Since you parted, every bone inside me hurts
My brow, neck, eyes, my joints, and head hurt
My heart, back, chest, every muscle is full of ache
Distraught I am my son, every vein within me hurts”

“I’ve battled a thousand soldiers, I am soaked in blood
Young ones I have buried, with pain my heart floods”

Impatiently the son of Saad addressed the army thus
“Come on brave soldiers, surround Husain we must”
They turned towards Husain, attacked and besieged
Thousands bearing arrows, armed with swords the rest

Midst archers, stone-throwers, Husain stood alone
Swords flashed in the sun, thousands against one

Surrounded by the massive army, all alone
Spears and swords charged at him, he stood all alone
Arrows inflicted fatal blows, Husain was all alone
Target of a thousand blows, Husain was all alone

Amidst the evil around him, like the moon He glowed
The world had turned against Him, at Him its fury flowed

Alas the cursed army knew not a Syed’s worth
They pierced His noble body with arrows and spears
Aiming their swords, they sought to massacre Him
They circled and surrounded, each seeking to kill Him first

So-called Muslims, attacking the Apostle’s son
Your Imam was all alone under the scorching sun

He fell from His horse, no support for His descent
No one to pull the arrows from His riddled chest
Friends and loved ones dead, Husain now all alone
Weak with thirst and hunger, nowhere to go, no rest

Facing a treacherous army, drowning in their flood
In every face around Him, a hunger to spill His blood

It felt as though the heavens thundered in dismay
Wounded the son of Fatima, on His horse swayed
The Imam of the universe, the Prophet’s dear Grandson
Precariously He swayed and fell to the earth that day

A thousand bruises on His body as he fell to the ground
Who knows what He felt when dropped on the sands

Fizza took the news to the ladies within
“They prepare to behead him, Oh what a sin”
Weakened with illness, Abid stumbled as He arose
In panic and terror, the ladies ran out into the din

At the torment in Zainab’s cries, the desert floor quaked
Stumbling and falling, she ran out seeking Husain

“Where is my brother?” She cried, running every way
“Ali’s wealth is lost, plundered here today
Show me the way to the river, take me to the battlefield
Show me where He lies, wounded, show me pray”

“Oh blessed earth help me, the heavens are no help
I come searching for my brother, show me where He fell”

“I am Syeda, help me find my way to Him
I am the daughter of Ali, save yourself from sin
May you live happily, find peace after death
Show me where the Syed lies, pray take me to Him”

“We have no one, we are ruined in this land
We come from Medina, against thousands today we stand”

Then she heard Husain’s groans, sensed her brother near
She ran towards the sound seeking her brother dear
And watched in disbelief as Shimer beheaded Husain
She covered her face, fell to the earth, in shock and fear

With grief her heart shattered, she silently prayed
The severed head of her Brother, she saw on a spear raised

Another Gem From The Last Moghul

Not the light of any one’s eyes!
nor the solace for any one’s heart
of no use to anyone,
I am that one fistful of dust

I am not the song infusing life,
why would anyone want to hear me
I am the sound of separation,
I am the wail of much distress

My complexion and beauty is ravaged,
my beloved is parted from me
the garden that got ruined in autumn,
I am the crop of its spring

I am neither anyone’s friend,
nor am I anyone’s rival
the one that is ruined, I am that fate
the one that is destroyed, that land

Why should anyone come to sing a requiem
why should anyone come to offer four flowers
why should anyone come to light a candle
I am the tomb of that destitution