My son

And Mr.Conservative the grand dad.

And lovely,So young and promisingIn her burkha,I could not see her,But when peeped I insideThe windowSaw I a heart full of so much loveTaking me to Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan,Azerbaijan, Chechnya.

In SanskritMeaning the King of Mountains,The Shailendras,Shailendra kingsIn Sumatra, Java and BaliAnd their powers exerted,A seaborne empire,The great builders and makersOf temples and Buddhist artifacts.

With the melody taking farTo reminiscence and recollectionOf the spent together withAnd the mistake committedIn realizing itThe relationship,The bond of loveWith a tinge of love and missing,Missing and losing.

Wanted,Wanted I to say,I love you,Love you,Many a day,Many a dayHave I,Have I wanted,Wanted to sayI love you,Love you!

Of the sister.I still aboutThe love and respectShown to.And thinking about itI grow sick and emotionalWith the heart heavy upon.

In tears?How can,How can it be,Syrian, Syrian daughter?

How the times,The times have changed,The situations and circumstancesOf lifeAnd I also myself a wayfarerHalting at the crossroadsTo take toDiverting and digressingAnd bifurcating fromAnd as thus goes the unknown way of life!

With your MiangiriThinking of Muslim BrotherhoodRather than living in your country.If you are a HinduDo not move out to AmericaWith your HindugiriThinking of Hindu BrotherhoodRather than living in your countryAs America is neither a Muslim nationNor a Hindu sate,But a free country.

What is it in the Jarwas?The great Andamanese people,What was it Andaman before,I don’t know?Should we ask it from the Jarwa people,Should we about the art of livingDuring floods and natural disasters?How their cottages,What their experiences of wolves and tigers?Were there tigers notIn the past?Are there not monkeys, bears, deer,Elephants?Who to say to me,Answer all…

An imagist of a high orderTaking the visionary glides.Sitting by the door, he dreams to dwell far,Depicted against the backdrop ofThe mythico-historical background, he continues to evade usWith his escapades and flights of imagination,Bringing poetry closer to physics,Sociology, museumlogy, art and architecture.Apart from being closer to what it brings him nearer to,Feminism, bare realism and…

A Tamilian poetWith Dravidic identityWriting in English.

But I think,What have theyAfter casting votes,Using franchise,Giving a mandate?On seeing a conglomerate massOf the half-clothed and the half-fed,Poor and living somehow,I feel it within,What have weFor those struggling masses?Today India is free,We are not under any foreign yoke,We can speak freely,Express as we like,But why is this poverty,Why has it not developed?They are coming…

You please tell me?

Nothing hidden from,Everything under surveillanceWith the CCTV footageAnd the GPS.

Of a mythical baseDrawing from Celtic legends,Occult andOriental mysteries.

Song of AmericaOf the American states,States of the confederation,Its Americanness,AmericanismOf Alabama, Alaska,Arizona, Arkansas,California, Colorado,ConnecticutOf Delaware,Florida, Georgia,Hawaii, Idaho, Iowa,Kansas, Kentucky,Louisiana, Maine,Maryland, Massachusetts,Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi,Missouri, MontanaNebraska, Nevada,New Hampshire, New Jersey,New Mexico, New York,North Carolina, North DakotaOhio, Oklahoma, Oregon,Pennsylvania, Rhode Island,South Carolina, South Dakota,Tennessee, TexasUtah, of Vermont, Virginia,Washington, West Virginia,Wisconsin,Wyoming sing IOf the Statue of Liberty,The Charter,The American…

As I am not your belovedNor you my loveAnd I know it, you will love me, love me of courseAnd will go away someday unsaidDumping me elsewhere,You will be after and after me followingFor a few days, for sometimeTrying to keeping me in good spirits,Keeping a watch on as how to take care ofOf my…

A story draped in innocence and ignorance.A poet of childish mind and heartMare is especiallyOf wonder and astonishment.

You ever tried to know,Know the meaningDalit,Dalit,Pada-dalit,Trodden, downtrodden,Crushed under feet?Dalit, Dalit,Oh, the pain in the word,Rakes,Rakes my heartAnd I,I feel the painAching.Who,Who actually a Dalit,A Dalit,Downtrodden and crushedUnder feet,Have you,Have you?The woman, the child,The daughter,Dalit, Dalit.

How does it keep turning and turningThe highwayWhich but fear I to cross over to,Pass through,Walk onThe highway,Highway.

Turn to the northeast mountainous and hillyTerrains and wildsAs for easy assignmentsIn colleges and universitiesAnd after substantiating their respective positions,Start calling themselvesExperts or new criticsOf the poetry in English from the northeastThough there is nothing like thatAnd had it beenWe would have heard about definitely.The simple teachers from other statesAre trying their best to come…

Or a ghazal.Only you.

You just begin, begin to write.Into the no-man’s zone, tract are youStraying into the border areasTo pass out as a no-man.And even if you are not a poet,Call you yourself,A compiler as a critic.A poetatster, a rhymer, a commoner and a non-poet,All holding seminars, workshops, symposia and conferencesJust for to be poets and critics.And that…

The statue of a blackly Radha and Krishna arising,A statue so rare, so pricelessWhich human eyes cannot take to believing,A blackly, but radiant statue appearing fromFrom the mounds of earth,The relics of the fallen pillars and columnsOf the centuries old terracotta templesWith the thick, thick pillarsAnd the terracotta plates,Made from limestone and small baked bricksDating…

Through whichGo it the martyrs, patriots,Nationalists!You pluck me, gardenerAnd throw awayTo be strewn withThrough which cross itThe soldiers laying heir headAt the altar of the motherland!You pluck me, gardenerNot to be forInto the hands of loversOr into the hair braidBedecking itOr flowers offered to gods!But for the martyrs,Nationalists and patriotsWho cross the waysTo lay their…

They have started calling me,Darhiyal,Mr.Beardie,How are youTouching my long unkempt beards?

Am I here to see,See Spain as thus,Corpses being bundled and taken away,Ambulances waiting forThe patients to be admitted,To be taken away,But how,How to bear the load,My Lord,Lord,It is agonizing, anguishingTo seeSo many seriously ill,Affected withTo survive the infection?

but my dream remained a dreamand you could not be mine,you could not be.

TheyThe chunks of stone and rocksTo carve out and chiselThe linga,ShivalingaTo see lightThrough the human eyes?Shivalinga,Shivalinga,How to carry the stone with,How to clutch along?