Mayajaal!

Is that real,
the bunch of sweet nothings
freely exchanged?

Like a quick magic trick
it appears and disappears
before I know;
but they know,
they believe,
why reality is such a wonder-bird -

it gives you wings
it touches unknown winds
it sings a popular song,
covers up stealthy bygones
its cooks up a lucrative dish
from ‘hunts & kills’ of small fish

its not for no reason that they call it indispensable,
somewhere, that ‘real’ is really in-credible!

That ghost!

I watch the lights
bright eeriness
that unfolds
her.
She stands like a smoky figurine in its whiteness.

I look away
sight fixated
on the floor
that un-buries
her.
She grows into her full self like a brown creature with white teeth.

I twitch my brows
and gaze straight;
at the farthest wall
that un-carves
her.
She is the white sculpted curve staring into me.

I close my eyes,
wash my insides,
that fluid-ify
her.
She is the cast that embodies the petrified, closed-eyed, free flowing mystique!

One-Another!

A lil something that most things contain
in parts that seem
off
and on
or
on
and off;

growing ends
expansive peripheries
extending territories
moving around
myself
around things that are me
- for a long while -

on a dotted line
non linear
between the leap and the pause
the jump and the stop
somethings change
and somethings, wired, stay!

PS - Woh jo ruki si, chaah baaki hai!