Secretly sharing with the flowers,
Mark it,
Betraying you, I can never be happy, my love?
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My Female Unborn
I am,Am fightingGender biasIn India,PakistanAnd developingCountriesCome you,Come you laterAs ours isA conservative,Tabooed,Patriarchal,Orthodox,Male-dominatedSociety.Before come,Come you,Say you,YouWhether a maleOr female babyAnd if a male,I shall celebrate itWith too much jubilationAnd if a female baby,I shall,Shall mourn your coming,Coming,Darling!
Allen Ginsberg, who, who were you,
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She had been in a hurry,
Just saw her, saw her passing throughA girl never seen before,Never will be like,I mean the models,Failing the heroinesSaw I her coming to, approaching the complex,With a handbag hanging from,Coming nearerAnd pausing by to purchaseAnd purchased sheAnd went away,Oh, a great beauty,As if she sitting before as a modelAnd I making a portrait of hers!As…
The folk artistes in coarse but beautiful
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Under the gulmohars hanging by
dream Iof my loveat noondaywhen the scorching sunruffles it allI dream ofthe sweet coming of my lovewhen the gulmohars hang byred-red and vermillioned,florid and clustered,fiery red and flamingat noonday
The Old Age Home
Where I shall have to go toOne day?Let me see it nowWith a passing eye-view,May have to one day.SorrowYour sorrow, I could notFeel it then,The nights heavy withYour weepingAnd you weighed underPain, grief and sorrow!The HouseWhen someone is with,When someone is notAnd you aloneSitting by the doorSeeing the pathways.Where Shall I?Where shall I goAs I…