50) आसिफा

ENGLISH version: http://literaryimpulse.com/poem/178/the-hindu-times/

मैं एक हिन्दु हूँ और
मुझे छोटी छोटी लड़कियों
का क़त्ल और बलात्कार
करने में मजा आता है

क्या वो मुस्लिम थी
और मुझे उसका बलात्कार करने में मजा आया?
और क्या वो सिर्फ एक छोटी सी नादान लड़की
थी, जिसने अपना पहला पीरियड भी नहीं देखा था?

क्या सिर्फ ये कारण है की मैं
एक हिन्दू और
मुझे छोटी छोटी लड़कियों
का क़त्ल और बलात्कार
करने में मजा आता है

मुझे अपने ऊपर गर्व है!
हाँ!, मुझे ऊपर गर्व है
की आज भी १९४७ का वो लम्हा कायम है
जिसमें छोटी छोटी लड़कियों का बलात्कार किया गया था
आज़ादी का वो लम्हा!

मुझे अपने ऊपर गर्व है!

और मंदिर
एक छोटी लड़की
की योनि की मांस, खून
और वसा से लतपत हैं

माफ़ कीजिये
मुझे योनि शब्द नहीं कहना चाहिए था
मुझे पीरियड नहीं कहना चाहिए था
मुझे नहीं कहना चाहिए था
औरत, मासिक धर्म और जीन्स

जीन्स?
जीन्स तो सबसे गंदा शब्द है
फक जीन्स!
और जीन्स की जरुरत ही किसीको है?
मैं तो बुर्के से ही काम चला लेता हूँ

हम सामान्य आदमी हैं
हम हिन्दू हैं और
हमें अपने पे गर्व है!

मैं हिन्दू हूँ
मैं मुसलमान हूँ मैं
एक सूअर हूँ

और वो देखो! हा हा
अब सूअर मुझसे कह रहे हैं
“सूअर हिन्दू नहीं हैं!”

मैं एक हिन्दु हूँ और
गाय मेरी माता है
मैं उन बेदर्द मुसलमानों की तरह गाय नहीं खाता
मैं छोटी छोटी लड़कियों को खता हूँ

एक छोटी लड़की काफी है मेरे लिए
मेरा लिंग ही नहीं इतना
की वो एक बड़ी लड़की को संतुष्ट कर सके
जो मुझसे प्यार कर सके.

49) [ASIFA] The Hindu Times

HINDI version: http://literaryimpulse.com/poem/183/50-आसिफा/

I am a hindu and I
Like killing and fucking little
Girls

Because she was a muslim and I raped her?
Or was she a little girl before puberty? And I did what I will again do.
Or was it just because I was a hindu?

And there is a 1947 partition. True. There is.
And I am talking to myself.
There is 1947 partition and there is
Partition from 1947 to today
Going on continuing mulling
Its existence like a wo/man in love.

But I am a swine.
Haha
And shit is my goddess.
I am proud of myself.

(The clouds hang above me
The world is a cheater.
And I am proud of myself.)

O yes, I am proud of myself.

And the temples shine with the girth
And fat and blood and muscles
Of the vagina of a little girl.

Oh sorry.
I should not have said ‘vagina’.
I should not have said periods.
I should not have said woman and menstruation and jeans.

Jeans? Fuck jeans.
I dont need jeans even
Burkhas are okay with me and I am proud of myself.

I am a proud Hindu
I am a proud muslim
I am a proud swine.

And now the swines are looking at me with hatred.
They are saying swines
Are not hindus. Fuck.
Them.
I don’t eat cows like those muslims.
I eat little girls.

A little girl is enough for me.
My dick is too small for the vagina of a big woman in love with me!

PS: Hinduism is just a way of life!

(1343, 16/04/18, palampur)

48) Hawking

Dreams of a nihilist kind
Are boring at best, and its tough
To be a genius
In a world of ‘geniuses’.

The tiredness of my limbs is making me type these words.

The typing continues
As I wrap my fingers around my phone
As I dream awake at night
As I plan
Another day of new determinations.

A little fiber is more than enough
A litte cockroach
To give you a sense of existence.
My fingers are more than enough.

And a little fiber is more than enough
A little cockroach
To tell you that you are
A cockroach a fiber a deathless
Finger wriggling on the top of a table.

Dreams of a nihilist kind
In which a pistol a bomb a piece
Of fried leg a lullaby a song a dream

Wriggles like a little cut finger on a table.
They keep me awake.

And they call me a genius.
And they call me Hawking.
And I just want to ‘know’.

And they just want to dance
To my invisible jokes they don’t
Understand because, I am a genius.

(14/03/18, Palampur, On Hawking’s death)

47) On 11 march, 2018

It is an ocean full of poems I have,
My ocean in my mind.
Today the stars have spoken to me.
I am in love
All over again with stars and dreams
Like the stars hanging over a darkened tree have once again begun to breath.

I fear their breathing.
I fear their life.
I fear living so full that another day
I might stop living all over again.

I know it is a trap.

In between the navel of the branches of the tree
Is a wholesome little
Star, twinkling
And I am staring at it
And I am staring at it.

And I am breathing cold warm air of memories un-lived..

(Palampur)

46) On shapes of clouds

The shapes these clouds of mountains make
And the shapes the hearts
Of people in love
With me and I am in love with
Make,
Are similar.

(1800, kangra, 24/02/18 enroute Delhi)

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