Send me a song

If we ever stop talking send me a song
Keep the words little
And your kisses long

tell me about your eyes
immersed with the tears
that you hide


let your heart speak
the words that your voice chokes
let it hurt to heal


talk about our first hug
when your bones and eyelashes
felt the warmth of our souls


pray for the reunion
that will last this war
and next


tell me of the bombs
bullets and heartbreak
into this song

If we ever stop talking
write me a song

A Prayer

Strength.

To those who are fighting tuition debts of a capitalist educational system.
To those who can’t memorise in examinations.
To those who are lost in the reality of the world after graduation.
To those who fight stereotypes.

To those who fight time-zones to be closer to the people they love.
To those who fight their weight.
To those who calm the echoes of hunger in their stomachs in the nights.

To those who clash against illogical cultural traditions.
To those faraway from their motherlands.
To those who are unqualified to get married.

To those who spend days and nights to make their ends meet.
To those who are sick and tired of the pretentious.
To those who can’t erase their past to start afresh.
To those who fight cancer.

To the children whose childhoods are murdered in wars.
To those who are orphaned.
To those mothers who nurse their children’s wounds.
To those fathers who have difficulty to drag their tears back.

To those half-widows who stare at the door knob to turn into their husbands.

To those who gather their broken dreams.
To those who fight for freedom.

To those who lose hope…

Newsfeed

On my Instagram feed

a tourist adds a filter – illusion sets in

picturesque valleys and mountains

 

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On my Instagram feed

a sister adds henna – rigor mortis sets in

picturesque valleys and mountains

 

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On my Facebook feed

algorithms took a shikara picture

everywhere

 

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On my Facebook feed

algorithms took away the professor’s profile

online versions of

missing graves

 

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On my Twitter feed

retweets of fascism

never run out of data

 

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On my Twitter feed

a country runs out of

— obituaries

 

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