ASIF SULTAN MATTA

Message of love As rhapsodic with the upsurge of love,  I turn on the tap of my dry pen; The ink of blood slowly trickling  Down on the paper of my prayers That waits to ascend to the heavens  I make a paper boat of my hopes Only to make it float on the dry Running Stream of my prayers And be adrift to your home  With the wind of my yearnings  And knock at thy door Saying salaam And give the message of love.  ~Asif Sultan Matta 23 September 2018

Glance of Love Asif Sultan Matta 29-03-2018 Goddess of love, one day, showered the mercy of love On my bereft being Rekindled the morose soul within deep my deserted existence The parched rivers got a gushing flow, And withered woodlands flushed green; The extinct buds suddenly sprouted Out with an innocent beam Revitalised my dead garden of life; Aroma of charm wafted in air Making every nook vivacious Goddess of love once darted A glance of love at me.

The Sealed Ecstasy! 14-01-2018 Asif Sultan Matta What have you amassed for future?, they say Are you going to feed your family With the bread of books And their beverages be the ink of your pen? How can the fire of your of passion Of teaching at school Kindle the candle of your life? How can you build a big house From the raw bricks of your shallow dreams to entice a good beautiful match? What'll happen to your kids In this competitive age? Will your flipping of papers, And drying up your brain In teaching indifferent kids, And scribbling something alien Help you build the edifice of your 'career'? See how Tom, Dick and Harry Are reaching to the skies up high! Their lives blissfull and pockets swelled! And you... You possess nothing but the sheenless books And the penury in your reward! What have you got! Answer! But how can they relate? How can they discern the sealed bliss and glitzy gay : The merry of swim in calm lakes, And the pus

Scattered Dreams 19-01-2018 My dreams lay scattered in the twinkling light of the darkness of night, Prodding me, waking me up Seeking answer of their lamenting questions... My dreams lay scattered In the dusk of daylight; The onus of responsibilities And the pressure of orthodoxy Lead my quixotic mind To the vales of compulsions Of life, And my dreams lay scattered Enveloped in the painful words Scattered on a rough piece of paper Whining, wailing, zealous though, Gathered in the placid world of unquiet verses My scattered dreams Palliate the pangs of the pain... ©Asif Sultan Matta

On love 13-01-2018 Love is faith, Love is the fuel of life; Love is the life of heart, Its abode is a selfless heart-- Broom off from thy heart the filth of regret and the smudge of erstwhile hurt, Thus eschew to defile the serene dwelling of love; Eliminate the venom of doubts in it, Thus vanish the darkness of disbelief; Save thy heart from the fire of envy, Lest it'd fume thy fuel of vigour; Keep it alive with zeal of love So to make it able never to die Cause' love is the protocol of true life.

Hope in despair 12-01-2018 In the aridness of my cloudy soul, And the heart mucked with feeblity, My fatigued cringing hand dares to hold The infertile pen, and bleed the ink of hope... Hope to give the structure to my otherwise Unfathomable pangs of heart and soul Hope in this quitting desperation To have a charm of symphony Of the screams of heart and soul With the splash of ink on the paper; In hope, let my pen shed tears in vain, Of flowing fecund rivers of wisdom. ©Asif Sultan Matta

Snowfall and us! 09-01-2018 (I) Snowfall! Yippeee! Let's gaze at the falling flakes Draping the earth with crystal of snow In the warm rooms through the window Let's witness this heavenly show 'Mama, wear us these long boots', Kids said it in a go; Furry jackets and gloves did they wear, and went out in a row. Snow fighting, snowman making And skidding, their noses did flow In merry went they back home, Food was ready did they know. (II) Calamity befell! Ah! Shaking in cold, agony rising In their hearts, as the snow's ceaselessly falling Shrouding the earth in the white fetters Penury can't keep they forstalling 'Borrow from neighbors some rice for meals', He propelled his wife in a dull whispering; Scruffy clother their kids are garbed in, Chapped humdrum cheeks for mercy begging; Feared and dreaded, their hearts within Deep imploring for its hurried halting, So as to venture out for the labour And toil al

Pitiable Plight! 08-01-2018 The spider of ailment squatted on his head Forthwith, did it weave its grey ugly web  round his poor being, gone is his wellbeing Cooped and disabled, his vigor away fleeing Caged in a corner in his dull room His face misery reflects, and an abject gloom Stifled wrath his heart nourishes within For the flagrant apathy in his kith and kin Baited does he lay like a fish apalled Ceased his tremor, awaiting for the haul.  ©Asif Sultan Matta

Piercing the tent of Blue! 06-01-2017 Why do ye need to pierce this little tent of Blue To send thine sight above the skies, And behold the secrets of thine being? Is not this little tent big enough To make ye bow before the Mighty Might; The light and the dark, The perpetual burning candle And the evanescent thin shining curve--- Hasn't this gilding gleamed Thy inward eye? Why do ye need to pierce this little tent of Blue? Is not the chuckle of child Making ye mesmerised to cognize the beauty of thy Lord? Peerless mother's earnest love, Strength in thy friend's smile, And weakness of solitude-- Hasn't this feeling rendered your heart to beat? Why do ye need to pierce this little tent of Blue? Is not this right and wrong within you Making ye long for the dooms day? The penury of pious, the luxury of a vile beast The betrayed And the betrayer--- Hasn't this insight brightened Thy sheenless soul? Why do ye need to pierce this littl

Despotic Self! 04-01-2018 In deep darkness of silent night, I muse on my befogged self, What are it's dark secrets, Secrets that hinder its elevation And purging into a serene soul; That render it to fall in abysmal ravine. The voices within outcried: You're a powerless Pharaoh, That tends to be monarch To execute what desires demand Eschewing the Lord's commands Difference is that you are a soul, Unarmed and spineless coward, Elseway, you'd proclaim your pursuits Like every martinet despot. ©Asif Sultan Matta

Reflections Asif Sultan Matta 01-01-2018 I can see the dust and smoke Drifting out of the mirror, Of the violent riots going on between my anarchistic selves, I had a little glimse of, soon after I gazed into it to see myself, Obscuring its glassy screen And ceasing my sight to go any further... I closed my poor eyes, Endeavouring to recapitulate the sight of the violent warriors I only could have the glimpse of Three men and several others Zealously in a ruinous row One, with a demoniac countenance Casting his arrows at the other two Other, with his iron head, is wading through the corpses Of the slain ones, And heading to an arsenal... One more, garbed in shining cloak With the blemishes red all over Crawling and panting Weak and wounded Skirting away from his fuming foes. Cacophonous cries And barbarous fights My mirror flashed As I gazed into it...

What makes me feel alive! Asif Sultan Matta 02-01-2018 The twinkle of love shining in my eyes; And brook of zeal flowing through my veins; The wonder to witness this wide starry heaven; And the wondrous giggle in the face of a child Make me feel that I am alive! The ecstatic feeling rapturing in my bosom For an insight when its sheen revealing; Her warm gestures in eyes and smiling; Her momentary yearning, my permanent pining, Make me feel that I am alive! Empathetic pain lancinating my chest; The rain of tears vitalising my being; The impulse to fall in an alluring hell; And disposition to save myself from falling, Make me feel that I still am alive!