Khayaalganj

Later

Let me take you to an old lane where a naughty nazm live... Many a times I wanted to meet her, she remained elusive ever. Tried to trace the trail she left, to finally word her down, always fallen short of a line or two. Again I got her glimpse behind a misty thought, to loose her to wandering whims. She wanted me to offer her a rare metaphor, how foolish was I to place a simile there....I am still following her to those blind turns where she will rest... in the book whose leaves you will turn.....

Every day is an act on the world's stage....though the scene changes from night to morning.... the curtain is yet to be raised, awaiting the beloved to wake up......for the poet the unravelling of the whole drama of life....or for that matter the day to start... is futile unless his beloved is the audience...

Title says it all....

This was a visit to a hospital.....

A short nazm, creating an imagery of a night of separation....

This is a poem written and recited by Shahab to bring out a first person account of a migrant worker in times of COVID lockdown, where the worker is not trying to exhibit his victimization but likes to remind the larger society (shaher) of his/her contribution in its evolution & development. He tries to show mirror to the society of its collective failure in living up to his expectations and remaining indifferent to his situation. As he leaves the city for his village he also leaves a piercing question.....

We must and have to respond to his question...