In a world full of sorrow

With nothing but pain

How can I be kind

With nothing to gain


Yet you smile

Like an incandescent dream

Against odds and oddity

In a world miserably mean


You show us a path

Forgotten and ignored

And a humble sense of humanity

Once adored


My own reflection

Is my worst nightmare

Haunting and daunting

Embodiment of despair


Yet you carried this burden

This long, this far

Only to be rewarded with betrayal

At the judgement hour


Yet you smile

Like dawn of spring

In a world that treats you

Like a plaything


The blame is mine

And I bear it in shame

This guilt, this suffering

My existence, my bane


In a darkened world

You’re a speck of light

Which I once cultivated

Now lost, and denied


Ghazal #2

मेरे दिल का जो क़रार था
शायद तुम्हारा ख़ुमाार था

फेहरिश्त-ए-कातिल-ए-जिगर मिली
मेरा नाम उसमें शुमार था

दामन से उलझता रहता था
तन्हा बहुत वो ख़ार था

फूंक डालूंगा मैं दिल की दुनिया
क्या जुनून मुझको सवार था

जिससे मैं झूमता रहता था
मेरे दिल का कोई आज़ार था

बेसाख़्ता अश्कों का सबब
इज़हार नहीं इनकार था

मिली ना राख भी जलने के बाद
मैं इतना नहीं बेकार था

हुई है चूक मेरे कातिल से
वगरना तीर आर पार था

~अभिषेक ‘अमन’

ख़ार= thorn
बेसाख़्ता= spontaneous



I wish you would have heard me
I cried like a homeless child
the pain which grew in my heart
was so severe not a mild
I wish you would have heard me
pain residing near me
killing me, my every bit
why don’t you hear me
I wish you would have heard me
I stayed there for a while
I waited for your return
but you were gone, many mile
I wish you would have heard me
my deepest love, my heartfelt concern
if only you would ever realize
will quieten my cutting burn
I wish you would have heard me
my last cry, my last request
that would be enough to live
that someday you would come back


© Copyright 2009 Corbis Corporation

16 days before…

“Your daughter’s jaundice is increasing day by day, Mr. Sharma.” The doctor who was operating my sister informed my father when he reached the hospital with tea for her.

The doctor was accepting any word from my father but he remained quiet so the doctor continued further:

“I am referring her to Apollo Hospital. So please get the transfer papers signed by ……………” he gave dozens of names to him and my father did the same. The doctor had sensed the problem but afraid to tell it to my father because of lack of evidence that’s why he forwarded the case to Apollo hospital, the well-known hospital for his equipment and world class doctors. When my sister heard that she is being shifted to Apollo, she was very excited because of the beauty of building of Apollo. She was unaware that this will be the last trip of her, in her consciousness.

Now as the matter was becoming serious, the news was also getting spread everywhere rapidly. Everyone who heard the news comes to the home and asks the same question:

“What happened to her?”

And I and my mother had the same answer to the question:


And then starts the series of advices of different treatment. My mother was ready to test everything she heard but it was my father who stops her every time.

In Apollo she remained for 3 days. No doctor came to operate her, no special medicine given to her, nothing happened. The thing which happened was visitor’s arrival and their departure. My father was with her 24 hours a day. From the MH one more problem has added with her, stomach pain. Her stomach was getting big and hard day by day. She had stopped to go to toilet. Her liver stopped working normally. This was the second symptom of the decease.

My father asked about this to doctor so he replied:

“Mr. Sharma, see you are a normal man, right, but still it is possible that 90% of your liver will not be working properly. So I mean to say that even a normal person can have 90% of liver failure and we are giving her medicine for stomach pain. So don’t worry Mr. Sharma your daughter is in the safe hands of ours.” But my father was not satisfied with doctor’s last line.

The problem of stomach pain was getting more severe day by day. She was finding difficulty in sleeping in nights because of which my father also has to awake the whole night. One night she was feeling pain in stomach, she tried a lot to hide her pain from father so that he can sleep but the pain was severe. So she scolded father:

“Why you can’t sleep. I will sleep after some time.” She never ever talked to father like that. Her tone was really high. After these words she started to cry. This cry was the result of guilt which every disabled person has. My father also wanted to cry but he can’t do so. The irony of being father…

I, along my mother went to hospital every day to meet her. But on that day, in place of me, my uncle went to see her. Uncle first met to my father and took details and then my father took him to the bed of my sister. My father jokingly asked my sister:

“Tell me, who is he?”

“I know, Sandeep (My name) came to meet me.” She replied. She was unable to recognize uncle and mistaken him with me.

My father rushed towards the doctor and told him the whole story. This was the third symptom, confusion in recognizing. Disease reached the brain….

Rising Pains

Rising Pains

Somewhere beneath this plastic smile

the soul is crying

Usurped by emerging pain,

tears showering like rain

The shades of darkness

rendering with age

Scavengers of the past

thriving on rage

The world parting slowly

for the evil deeds

And the creators of past

enjoys the rain

The pool of memories

filled with guilt & shame

And the so called absolution

a myth, a fairy tale

In a world so selfish

one has nothing to gain

Just to kneel before self

due to the rising pain…. . .