cried wolf too many times

No one seemed to take him seriously. He got intense in telling how many times he had seen deaths of human beings. On roads, in gutters, in infernos, in clashes, in innocence. Sometimes for the sake of just fun for some.
He thought he undid to them the otherwise cleverly knit webs of talks and deeds of admen or media brothels few, of which he was a part, working overtime for illiterate politicians and inhumane rich. He could see the journalism of today generally losing its meaning, relevance. One believed no one today.

give stars a flying kiss and hug the sky

When you enjoy refusing to talk to self,
boasting of ``nihilism'',
immersing in nothingness

silence will frighten you, dear,
so speak
converse with clay, birds, river, clouds, light.....
and hear them

mandi

mandi mein ho tum
kya sochate ho

yeh mandi hai

jo dhire dhire tumahare ghar aa pahunchi hai

tum ab chehara chhupate ho

besharmi se haske dikhate ho

tumahara ghar ab mandi mein bikau hai

to a noble soul

Ruh se uthi awaz mein ek alaap ho tum
Alameen ho
Ghana badal ho
mithi hawa ho tum
Sabke jazbon ki lau ho
Suhani shaam, paq subah ho tum
Ik chhoti si nazm
Bahut ghahari ghazal
Sabke zabin ki raunaq ho