ODE TO US

Nothing’s great in this story...
No princess... and no prince...
No king, no queen, and no epic...
No virtues and no sins.

This story of me and you...
It is nothing but all plain.
Like others we feel our love is great...
And our pain the only pain.

No great things we talk about...
No great feats we ever do,
No great books we’ve ever read...
And our ideas are but few.

Our films together are all banal...
Nothing deep and great...
Our series are all very different,
But still we narrate.

My verses are mediocre...
And you don’t even write.
As I speak of my childish aims...
You... of your dream last night.

We move in the same direction...
We fall, yet again we try...
And we slowly walk together...
As others pass us by.

There’s nothing great in our story,
And it may get over in a while...
But till then we sit on plastic chairs...
As we share a smile.

~MR

LUCIDITY

In a moment of lucidity...
Amid their constant strikes...
You realise...
You have to rise.
You have to rise and circumvent them...
Sneak up from behind...
Put a chain around the neck,
And kick the back with full force.
That is when the neck breaks.
That is when you become you
The first murder of your life.
-MR

सहर-ओ-शाम

कभी सोचा न था के याद तुमको कर के सहर-ओ-शाम

यूँ हम टाला करेंगे काम सारे घर के सहर-ओ-शाम

तुम्हारे बाद घर में यूँ हमेशा आग उठ्ठेेगी 

खड़े होंगे यूँ ख़ुद बाहर हम अपने दर के सहर-ओ-शाम

सुबह उठ के ये सोचेंगे ये दुनिया छोड़ दें अब तो

सहर-ओ-शाम फिर से जी उठेंगे मर के सहर-ओ-शाम

फिर हर दिन सोच के निकलेंगे अब तुमसे करेंगे बात

वापस लौट आएँगे अकेले डर के सहर-ओ-शाम

ये मेरा घर जलेगा फिर ये मेरा सर क़लम होगा

तमाशे फिर किए जाएँगे मेरे सर के सहर-ओ-शाम

-ऋषिराज

सहर-ओ-शाम: Morning and evening

क़लम: detached, cut

THE NET

Swim in the ocean, ride the storm
It’s your choice to leave the pond

If the net hampers your vision, then
To render it invisible, look beyond.

पैग़ाम

पहले तौबा कर चुके थे, तब गए हम जाम तक
ख़ुद कलम को तोड़ डाला आके उसके नाम तक

बस तुम्हारी बू रहेगी और कुछ भी फिर नहीं
जब अकेले जाएंगे हम ज़िन्दगी की शाम तक

जिस सफ़र की कोई मंज़िल ही नहीं हो, हमसफ़र,
उस में क्या वादे करूं मैं साथ के अंजाम तक

अख़्तरान-ओ-कहकशाँ हैं मौत के साए में सब
और तुम रक्खे हुए हो सब मेरे पैग़ाम तक

ये ज़मीं है बस जहन्नुम की ही इक तस्वीर सी
जल रहे हैं घर यहाँँ नीचे से लेकर बाम तक

NOMEN ILLI MORS...

The world in which I live 
is a world without an ozone armor.
It is a world of great floods…
Floods of methane, floods of fire…
The giant waves of magma at times…
And an incessant rain of different acids.

It is a world where air is laden 
very heavily with cyanide…
It is a world where day and night
Life feeds on life itself.

It is a world of endless wailing…
Constant screams, chilling cries…
It is a world where in a moment
Things reach to death and end.

A world of fear is where I live…
But a kind of fear you know not…
A fear that is red and black…
A fear that would easily kill, 
preemptively.

What do you know of the world I roam?
Nothing… Nothing at all…
Overtly we live on the same planet.
But inside I live in inferno… 

For it is me that has been spoken of…
The one that is mentioned everywhere…
The one who rides the pale horse…
The one who has become death,
the destroyer of worlds.
It is me that the walls keep…
away from your little idyllic life.
It is me who has been mentioned.
The one, whom Hades follows around.
-MR

पुराना क़स्र

अब पुरानी दोस्ती की राह हम चलते नहीं

आस्तीनें भी नहीं हैं, साँप भी पलते नहीं

 हर तरफ़ है बस अँधेरा इस पुराने क़स्र में,

अब चिराग़ों को जलाने पर भी वो जलते नहीं