You must write,

You must write,

For there are things
Which ought to be written.

You must write that there was a dictator.

You must write that people
Were dictated to perform what the dictator dictated.

But that wasn't the case?

Everyone was free to do
What he/she feels like?

Is it?

Yes of course!

Except a few who
Were stupid enough to follow
Their hearts and sell their minds
To the greatest bidder.

But mind can't be sold?

It can definitely be sold

For gold,
For dollars
And a few pennies.

You must write that
The time has come to write the final act.

Is the drama over?

It isn't.

Tomorrow God Will come on television to declare that you don't believe in him.

But I do.

the quest

Will I cry when I see

that you are no more?

Will the feeling of loss

will leave me 

numb and speechless?

will my throat be full?

I feel that 

It will be an unbearable loss to me,

and it will surmount 

all the feelings of 

peace and tranquility

that is now here with me,

when you are around.

It will be so painful 

so much so that 

I can not write it down 

here without burning my finger 

in the fire of my fears.

Can we really imagine 

the pain which is yet to come?

The pain 

when is being seen 

on screen 

in a play or an act

is so real 

that it melts 

something within.

The actor keeps it with him

never shares and

what it does to him

is never known to the outside world.

The feeling of association 

and empathy

are the greatest gifts 

that the mankind has,

but seldom 

they appeal in the same proportion 

as the hate and jealousy.

Man, the animal 

is not so human, as the wise man,

he/she is 

perturbed

petrified,

anxious 

and ever in search of 

things which he does not know

and will never know.

And on top of all

He/she has the imagination

to see the future and 

bring it in his/her today.

Am I Doing the same?

Will I get the answers?

Or will the quest as usual 

will remain for forever and ever !

The migrants

A poet died today,

He was from the same city
to which I belong.

He created his place
in this new world.

Loved by all.
Remembered by few.
He was a migrant to this city
just like me and many others.

The migrants never really forget
their homeland.

They live,
in their homeland
and the new land where they work,
simultaneously.

The migrants
they miss their languages.
the languages less spoken
but sweeter than the one they use at work.

Is it just nostalgia?

Maybe the birthplace
has something to do with our psyche.

The lullabies which were sung
to us when we were kids,
gets entrenched in us.

We leave places, cities and towns.
but they never leave us.

They remain in our sub-conscious
hidden from everyone.

and they
come back smiling when we write.

~ by Md. Shahid Kamal Ansari 

oxymoron

Sense is captive,
Non sense is on centre stage.

Reality is on back burner,
And symbols are sitting on hot seat.

Reason is laughing,
Logic has failed,

Substance is fighting for its existence,
Persistence is perspiring,

Hard work is getting hard,
Resistance has softened.

Disaster is waiting on the gate,
Idiots are holding garlands.

Soon, God will be beaten.

Preacher is the new God.
He reads scriptures like a song,
He sings it like a lullaby and makes
People captive.

Power is helpless,
Happiness is unhappy,

Life is rusty,
Every crow is thirsty.

Blood is boiling,
Milk is not.

People drink blood,
Throw milk on stones,

Milk is not milky,
Stars are milky.

People are moron,
Life is an oxymoron.

Odd Day !

Sadness!
It percolates down the throat.

You take a gulp of water
and wish it to tone down.

Sometimes it does.

All the other times,
you wish away it.

Inner fears,
inner desires,
they catch hold of you.

Some small ignition,
and it triggers like
burning the hay by the matchstick.

What is burning?

It is your strength to stand up
and talk straight.

Just like the hay straw which is
hard and straight before burning,

but later is is just a black remains
devoid of color, or the strength.

Do not get disheartened!

You are the shining star in the sky.

Just because some clouds come up does not mean
that your brightness will be marred by them.

You are the pole star of your life.
Show us the way.

Keep shining.

Ban Culture !

Ban hijab,
Ban naqab,
Ban the scull cap,

Ban the beard,
Ban the turban,
Ban the cross

Ban the gowns,
Ban the holy towns,
Ban all the symbols,

Criticize the naked,
Criticize the covered ones,
Criticize the half covered ones,

Ban green,
Ban white,
Ban black,
Ban saffron,

Shout on whites because they are white,
Shout on blacks because they are black,

You shout on me,
I shout on you,

Converstations are long dead,
Relations are long dead,
Decency whatever is left is dying,

Symbols are rising,
Smbols are dying too.

Kill the identity,
Complain why all are the same.

Create new identity to differentiate,

Find what is common among all.

Start courses on comparative differences.
Start fighting on the differences.

Strive for equality.
Those not ready to become equal, push them hard.

Start complaining about the equality.

Find elites amongst the equals.
Question why someone is more equal than you.

Get confused.
Confuse others.

Strive for simplicity.
It is getting complex.

Take a deep breath.

Sigh ! Alas ! Oh God !

Killings!

Everyone is killing everyone,
because everyone thinks that everyone is guilty.

No one thinks that the other one is right!

People have a vision for their righteousness,
People enforce their righteousness on other people!

Those who do nothing are blamed,
Those who do something are also blamed,
Those who do everything are not blamed.

The world is watching a football match,
they throw humans in one goal,
they throw humans in the other goal,
they count goal made by humans.

Who won?
God knows, I answer.

Whose God? They ask.
Which One? Yours or mine.

We the people

People will not discuss the names of the other nine but the one who is shown on tv

People will not discuss why hundreds die in siachin every year from cold and related conditions

People will not discuss why there should be a battleground in a glaciar

People will not ask questions from those  who must answer

People will only ask what they see on tv, read on facebook, share on watsapp

People in our country have forgotten the art of asking the right questions

People follow rhetoric, rhetoric follows people.

We the people, are for people, by the people.

How difficult it is for you
To remain sane
To be in control of thoughts

Why do you have to blame others?

Don't cry!

You are disrespecting God

He wants you to be happy.
Accept and don't crib.

You are among the fortunate ones
O heart !
Why do you bleed?

There will be a new sunrise tomorrow
And the the morning breeze will sweep away, all your worries.

It is easy to remain firm
Keep the ground.

The thoughts
where do you come from?

You are an aberration.

Your soul can see it
Look inside!

Winter Rains

As if the God is crying
since last 24 hours,

this incessant rain
is not pleasing,

Something unexpected
is either liked or disliked!

Is it a pleasant surprise?
You will ask,

And it maybe
or it maybe not,

But the reasons will be sought,

Is it that the God is unhappy that it is raining?
Is it global warming?
the more rational ones will ask,

The realist will just enjoy the downpour,

And for others
it is raining for no reason.