Monday, 1 September 2014

I want to run

The cloaks of shadows,
Stay behind!
Now, I,
For a shadowless Sun.

I renounce my Bodhee tree,
I search my feet,
I want to run,
Is there a soil, that I feel?
I find,
I announce, I have none.

Sangeeta Suneja

Pepper corns

When we are supposed to be
The ground grains
Of black pepper,
Sprayed up
On the papaya platter.

Not bitter, not pungent,
Not sweet, but mute,
Matching with the pinch of salt,
Just to be a flavouring flatterer.

I expel myself out,
From such a
Class, of salad,
I would love to be grounded
Wholesome, and free,
To sprout again,
On the branch,
as a bunch of pepper corns
To be eaten away by the birds, in the farms.

The unseasoned tigers

Their plastic attachments,
Their synthetic sensitivity,
But I have seen them wearing it,
as, a use and throw smile,
To cover
Their hunting style,
When their hunger, strikes.
Lacking grace, they do not know
What is a stride.

These tigers
Eat grass, dung and all available, non available grime.
Scavanging for power,
wanting to control every minute of time,
They are not even made up of paper mesh,
These tigers
Are desolate.
They dissolve in air and rain.

God save them!

Sunday, 31 August 2014


Kwaaabo ki haqeeqat buss itnee,
Unka aana, khayyalo'n  ko chhoonhaa,
Sitaro kee chhaanv mai simat jaana.

Kwaaabo ki haqeeqat buss itnee,
Unkaa aana,
Zindagee kaa raitaa
Failaa jaana.

Khwaabo ki haqeeqat buss itnee,
Taerey jaagey, tassavurr
Ko sulaa jaanaa.

Khwaab, eik bailihaaz
Safed chooney say putee deewaro'n
Par kab,
aur kaisey kaley seeah

Sangeeta Suneja

Thursday, 28 August 2014

Not yet!

The days,
The nights
The landslides
Of time,
Moved the the mass,
The mind,
Splurged it all,
The spirit, was thrifty,
Is not yet,

Sangeeta Suneja

Tuesday, 26 August 2014

Namr narm shabd.

Dareeyay zindagee mai lagaatee
Roz eik, chhalaang
Chheento'n ko roktey
Lapait'tey Samait'tey
narm namr beh'atey shabd,
Unpar, bina bheegay,
Mai tairrtee!

Apnay parro'n ko roz
Sureeley sabd say sukhatee
Aur fir,
Har shaam ki tarah,
Sukhay parr'on say
Urrd jaatee!


Sangeeta Suneja

The night drive, back home

night lamps randomly kiss the sky,
I The turn my car towards the highway number eight,
Headlights do some talking,
An aircraft gently lowers her arms and lands,
The runway blinks, in a welcome,
The car behind does some honking,
The radio touches all the secret strings of my heart
My feet move, the dancing thoughts,
Play duets.
The jingles ring, it is music all the way home,
Different notes at the every new crossing,
The old songs are great story tellers,
Where the mind writes extempore,
The drive shortens by all means,
One hour loses its burnished darkness,
The ethereal music drives me home,
I am not tired.