Can you hear me

in the echoes of those

ancient duststorms that

wandered the prehistoric earth

Before the time, when

the mountain was lake

and you lay in arms

i have always been here

just beyond the corner

of your eye flirting

with the edge of the mirror

can you hear me

tapering through the stone

breathing ever so delicately, like the wind

blowing through a slow delhi afternoon

i have always been here

a forgotten memory, held

hostage by a desprate love

trying to call you over all this din

can you hear me

a vagarant song on loose lips

sneaking around the world by hitching

rides along with unsuspecting ruffians

feeding on scraps of love that you

unwittingly throw away

i have always been here

embedded in radio broadcasts and

sewn into silver midnight light

sending out SOSes through ripples of time

Can you hear me !!

please.

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In Barely Discernible Darkness

I will trace the Jhelum Across Your back with my fingers In barely discernible darkness It will form a paisley Drawn from the memory of An imagined Kashmir No language spoken by Man or Gods shall be Uttered that night Words will be melded, Sentences molded to form A new language of love The ink, a fine powdered Amethyst, shall dry as We write its grammar The quill tips, fashioned From old bones, shall Burn in its blaze The room will be Full of scorch marks In barely discernible darkness -- Tz

Surviving Kashmir

In Kashmir Tragedy doesn't strike you, It seeps inside you, like a malignant disease Slowly making its way to your brain, Disintegrating your mental faculties, one by one. Taking you apart one minute at a time, making happiness A sepia picture that grandfather Put up on the wall of the ancestral house, That is now just a road, with every passing car Raising dust over your family tree, the room where You once crawled, teeming with unruly pedestrians, Grounding your memories to mere dust, walking by an invisible house with blue windows and tin sheeted gate. In Kashmir, tragedy doesn't seek you, it survives you.

Undone

I came undone at the edges Of our shared memories, Even though each door Was unhinged and each Window pane torn apart, I could still see your face Veiled by your secret smile, A dagger drawn in cold Arabic blood Your eyes hiding a hunger Of the most devious kind, With Persian spewing In the night Your fingers carving deadwood, Making firewood of pagan Gods, One measure Heresy, one Measure pure madness Niran, Shadows cried but The fires consumed them all Unhinged doors and windowpanes Torn apart I am coming apart at seams Of our shared past, melting Ice in heart of many fires

Tasenda

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Can you hear me

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In Barely Discernible Darkness

Surviving Kashmir

Undone