Measuring mantra to the drops falling from tap a visitor to the abode of Khwaja suffers pushes from the crowd and yet remains thirsty:
the Khadim promises prayers Gharib Nawaz feeds the soul he returns to the Sun City through the highways lost in the dark thanks God sitting before the image of Golden Temple mumbles Baha’i prayers Mahamrityunjay jaap and Hanuman Chaalisa crowning confused liberation
Indian English Poet and critic with 37 books, including 17 poetry collections, to his credit. At present, Professor of English (Higher Academic Grade), Dept of Humanities & Social Sciences, Indian School of Mines, Dhanbad 826004 India.Have been teaching English language skills to students of science and technology besides practising poetry, especially haiku and tanka for over three decades.
She was the pride of her father The brightest star of her class He showed her skills off To everyone visiting Curious she was as ever Asking questions till answers she would gather Something happened one day She changed so
When I flew into a storm my words collided with thunder and stars fell on ashes of dead. I wanted to scream. Seeking a freeze on past.Future was stretching its arms. A calling.Erratic explosions? The ruins were becoming worthy of