In the midst of crisp
gold shaded russet berries.
Frosty growling breeze
tread upon my flesh less bony words
crackling nothing but your name...

Paras Ali/2016

With the straws of dusty petals
Bare anklet of berries
and ruined pieces of blue barren clouds
They create an ageless doll's house
I Autumn and my Pen


Paras Ali/2016

Ripping open my veins
with the munching storm of yellow leaves
And sinking teeth of your glassy gaze
inside my frosty eyes
setting me blazed
Till my bones to million snippets break
into blood drenched verses
Where fall blooms an immortal Spring
over my fragile country of paper
Dear Beloved or my tormentor
Who am I to you?


Paras Ali/ 2016

A Lost Battle

(Dedicated to freedom fighters of Kashmir. May Allah bless them achieve their cause. Ameen)

Collaboration work of Paras Ali and very talented dear writer Asma Mughal

"Rumors ran amok that this brawny soldier has been behind shaking off metals and shrouding millions of villagers in white coffins now what makes you stand dumb ? I can see your hands are quivering. The girl in a mocking pitch asked looking straight into the eyes of the soldier. A strange silence descended all over quietening the barrel of HK MP5 rifle held by the soldier. All he could see the reflection of his bleak and bony , black marble resembling eyes in her grayish emerald iris canopied by beady eye sockets. No wind murmured a whistle only it shut the jaws of surrounding cacophony. No sooner the twilight rays wearing anklets swirled and curled around her pupil's edges he saw an immense goddess in her writing with emerald flecks a book of myths. Everything was on its right place except the eyes that have taken the place of the tongue. The girl eyes were translating those dauntless notes which he has never heard in these twenty eight years of his existence .He made one more step towards her and she yelled. "Shoot me you coward but dare not touch an inch of hair of mine ". Are you not scared of death ? Lost in bewildering empathy the soldier questioned.

'Death! What the hell death is!, the monster that ends up everything, your plaything, savoiur of your pride...huh...you a soldier...kill as many as you want and get yourself drowned in the pool of contentment, if your conscience allows it. I ain't fear death.', they were eye to eye so close having a strange connection. He had fixed the muzzle of the gun on her throat and clutched hold of her body in a way that the hurt penetrated deep in her bones. But neither did she scream nor begged for mercy. It was as if she had already handed over her body to him. The soldier's mind was boiling with questions like, who wishes to die at such a younger age? Why wasn't her body resisting? What messages were being conveyed by those rather small and unattractive eyes? There was a pause on both sides, then she looked to the right and he to the left, he was crushing his teeth while she was breathing faster. both were hearing their silent speech. Once again they looked at each other and again he saw his reflection in her eyes. The girl had done him no harm but he was a soldier in uniform on the duty to kill, torture even rape anyone on enemy side and she was his legitimate prey. The ground was there to water all the beastly desires buried deep in any man but he was a man with the attitude of a lion. He wanted his prey to be afraid of him, he despised tearing the already a dead body like a vulture does. And there she was standing, eye to eye, showing the courage of a soldier_ like him. He could identify his own self through her eyes. A battle between whether to go ahead or step back went on for a minute and then he turned his face towards the deserted village when suddenly, a strong blow of some hard object was felt on his head, then a second blow and the third and the next moment he was lying on the ground shrieking with pain, not dead but in-empowered.

 Lying plagued , punctured in spirit and bitterly wounded the soldier hissed:
"so you have also tasted human blood the savage blind girl. You have thinned the boundary between you and me". 

The girl opened her ajared lips for the first time to reply
'No territory has ever existed between us, and you! for you are fighting the war with a skilled brain while we are battling with an armored heart. '

A Letter to Allah

When despotic hands were reaching my fluffy cheeks
When needles were being hammered in my woolly skin
When wolf was sniffing closely my blood
And silent stood around all the world
Why even then my roots are set to burn and bare?
When wide Awake Beloved you are there

They turned my streets a cursed city
 My rattles tone-deaf, tear laden and mute
Beheaded my Mother's lofty lullaby
And thwarted with roaring guns my sobbing sighs
 How ghosts still are letting orphans like me frightened and scared?
When wide Awake Beloved you are there

Their serpent's tooth dig deep the crust
of my olive-greened credence in you
They mock over my patience and my faith
They say my letters would go unanswered
To the seventh sky flies no bird
How swiftly they can caricature all my pious prayers?
When wide awake Beloved you are there

 copyrights reserved to Paras Ali /2016

Gladly demolished
into mocking silence of stainless paper
My words have crossed the ocean of 'Self'
They no more yearn
The fake mask of Identity

Paras Ali/2016

Your Departure

Do not mutter a word
Stay Silent, Cease to be a poet
Your rhymes knocks me unconscious by stones
Of those crimson rainbows, my sky does not belong
Hide your eyes with the heals of your hands
Look me not else my wax would melt
In that mould of soapy slippery stars
Which find my droplets mountain hard
Stay Away !Sniff not at my Jars
My chestnut fragrance only i know is here or probably nowhere
March out from the boundaries of my skin
You would paint me with the turquoise shades of sea
And in seconds the maze of my mirrors would churn inside me
Its not the loss
Of your hand built silky curtains around me that hurts
Nor the pangs of waking up at an ungodly hours of night
It's only the mortality of hope
Which fades to exist
with the fear of your departure
Each time you leave
Shutting my doors closed
 the fangs of reality bites me more...

Copyrights reserved to Paras Ali/ 2016