Poems of Hussain Fakhruddin

My words have lost its power

2007-10-22T22:13:00.000-07:00

My words have lost its power

My words have lost its power
It doesn't affect anyone now
No one sleeps like a log anymore
Neither like a baby

Its lost the power to melt
the stiffest of the hearts
It cannot drive a tear out
It cannot calm the roaring wrath

It makes no one shiver
My words have lost its power

Oh poem, do not be so beautiful
for u have to prove them all
that my words have lost its power

Player of words I named myself
Shadows of faliure surrounds them
No words come out now
Just silence

My words have lost its power.

The Wait . . .

2007-10-22T21:49:00.000-07:00

This is one of my recent poem. The theme was again an inspiration from another poem which I read.
This poem is a long wait by a lover to see his/her love. A short and sweet description... Very very light poem..

The Wait
I wait for you,
near the red PostBox
anxious to see your face.

I stand and watch,
looking for the first sign of your arrival.

I finally see you, All dressed in shining black

My pulse races and I crack a smile,
this is what I've been waiting for.

You begin to approach,
you say, "Sorry, I'm late."

I say, "No problem."
But I think to myself, ' I could've waited forever.'

Drops

2007-10-22T07:03:00.000-07:00

Drops is a poem which NO one has understood. I personally agree its not that great style of writing. This poem came out just like that. I have tried to rhyme it but somehow lost control towards the end.

Drops

Oh look, its already started to rain,
Washing away all the pain..
Rain, rain fills the air with wine
And all the hearts rejoice as mine.. 
 
 
Do you hear it my love?
Do you hear the drops as they fall?
May the drops touch your soul
Before meeting its destined befoul. 
 
 
We are also like two drops of rain.
Which fall far on distant land
With the hope that they will meet
They run towards the ocean. 
 
 
So vast is the ocean,
With million drops all so same,
Insecurity kills me all the time,
Many other dorps are better than me.. 
 
Many who could make you flow.
Many who could make you complete..
Oh my love, will you forget me or remember?
Atleast give some humble sign.. 
 
Kill this insecurity that dwells within me
Say that you’ll always be with me.
Say that you’ll always love me...
Your silence is killing me. 
Let not this drop of rain
Turn into a tear
And wash away with the other drops
Oh my love, it rains more heavily now..
Say something..

Where art thou?

2007-10-22T06:50:00.000-07:00

I wrote this poem somewhere in 2004. Its just a casual poem without any much care on words. The style is again descriptive. It describes how a lover misses his/her love. The poem starts with everything dull. No news of the lover, No excitement in the air and towards the end it depicts about how insecure the lover feels. The lover justs asks his/her love questions to remove the insecurity and ends with a prayer to return back to him/her and letting his/her love know that he/she is waiting....

Where art thou?

Oh my heart of the sweetest hearts,

Where art thou?

The winds bring no perfume of thine

The birds dont sing your humming songs.

The sun here misses your calmness

The trees are lonely.

The flowers have lost their insprational bloom

The clouds have refused to rain.

For all of them miss your presence.

And in them all,

One heart beats so fast,

A breath that takes your name.

A leg that shakes of excitement

A face that blushes at your sight.

Thirsty are the lips for yours.

Hungry are the ears for your voice.

Sparkling eyes awaits you.

A mind that keeps thinkin about you.

A soul that waits its freedom.

A me who loves you.

Dear, days have passed

No news of yours.

I wonder how u'd be.

Give me some sign.

Does my love reach u?

Does my kiss awake you?

Does my absence make you miss me?

Does your heart call for mine?

Its time for you to come back

For a heart calls another.

Come back to me..

For I wait for tomorrow

Everyday, everytime.....

Lonesome Nights

2007-10-22T02:05:00.000-07:00

This poem was inspired by an article which talked about love and friendship. It started with "Lonesome night....".

This is a sad poem. I wrote it in the year 2002. In this poem I have tried to imagine the situation of a newly heart broken. Each night the person thinks of what happened, Why it happened, Was it right, Future?...The poem describes the situation and the trauma faced by the heartbroken.

This style of poetry is something where this is no gender difference. After reading one can never say if it was a Man's heart or a woman's heart which is describing. These types of poems gel well with anyone who is reading it.

Lonesome Nights

These lonesome nights seem perpetual.
Reminiscence haunt me all throughout
I can't light this darkness anymore
Even a single firefly infatuates me
Bringing in hope for a new sun to shine
But hopes are mere hypothetical
A deep conflict within me commences
Between my mind and heart
Both speak a different language.
I lie down on my bed with clairvoyant powers
Virtual clairvoyance!
I go in a state of trance
I feel butterflies in my stomach
Diving into the unplumbed depths
Of the fascinating ceiling above me
I see, I see emotions
Tears run down from either side
Touching my ears and drop on the pillow
I wipe my face and stare at the mirror.
Red eyes brings a smile to my face
But seconds later tears replace this smile;
The immese pain wakes me from trance
I can't face the mirror anymore.
It sprays salt on raw wounds.
I wipe my face again and couch under the blanket
As a child seeking refuge in mother's lap
"O' Lord I am also your child.
How will I survive if this pain dwells in
The same place where you stay"
A beautiful breeze blows whistling
As if nature pats me and sings a lullaby
I fall asleep and morning sun rises
Putting an end to the perpetual night.
But another one yet to come.....

Goat Sacrifice

2007-10-22T01:49:00.000-07:00

I wrote this poem in Vain some days after there was a goat sacrifice at my home during Bakri-ID or Eid-uz-Zoha. I was in the other room when this was being done in my balcony. This poem is a symbol of my Vegetarianism. I am a vegetarian not just because it involves killing. But more because it involves a lot of hurting. People do ask me why am I vegetarian even though its written in most holy books that some animals were created by God for the humans to eat. I have no reason for this. Neither I want to argue with anyone. Its my personal opinion that killing will involve a lot of pain. If someone pricks me, I get hurt. That hurt is no way in comparison to the 10 minutes of taste that we get.

Again, the style used in this form of poetry is descriptive free style. I haven't restricted myself to any rhyming but have tried a little.

Goat Sacrifice

Alas, morning had come, day had fell
And she could hear the ringing knell,
But the death here was far absurd,
Neither there was a bier,
Nor a single pyre.

The butcher came in with is shining knife,
To take away the precious life.
The goat began to tremble here and there,
But eyes were fixed on the knife,
With no tears but just a shocking stare,

Ma came in with the holy book,
She searched for the pages with a look,
And then began to read the inscriptions.
Then she bought a cup of water,
And placed it beneath the Goat's mouth.

The Goat refused to take her last sip.
The butcher gave the goat a strong whip,
And it then took a sip.
Before those drops could reach the neck,
The butcher, said his prayers and began
To rub that knife on its neck.

"O Lord- thou hath created me
And now you want me to die,
What sin did I commit afterall
Only that I cannot speak
neither can I take any revenge!
I am coming to you in some moments.
To get my answer. Why? Why? Why?"

Before the lord could hear her plea,
The Butcher had cut the artery on her neck,
Crimson blood fell on the white marble,
and in a minute, there lay her body
A body without a neck.

Vibration was common to each and every cell,
Then came out pieces of meat and fell,
With each stroke of butcher's knife,
Vibration grew more and more.
The soul refused to leave the body.
But now there was no body.

How easy is to take a life
And easier is to forget.
How hard is to remember,
And harder is to regret.

Death in 60 Seconds

2007-10-14T22:35:00.000-07:00

The theme of the poem is based on the Earthquake which hit Bhuj,Gujarat, India in the year 2001.
The main idea is of a man who is feeling proud of his country on Republic day and Suddenly,
a shake is felt. He doesn't know what it is. He has never had such experience before.
He identifies that its an earthquake and the poem describes how he gets trapped in his house beneath the broken walls.

The style of this poetry is an inspiration from another poem:
"A Doctor's journal entry for August 6, 1949" by Vikram Seth.
I have tried to keep the poem light weight and more descriptive so that it can explain the event and the feeling of the people who have suffered due to the quake.

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Death In 60 Seconds. By Hussain Fakhruddin
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It was a calm Morning of Republic day,
When all the marchers were on their way;
Patriotism filled the air with wine,
And all the hearts rejoiced like mine.
I was watching the magnificent parade,
Suddenly, there busted out a fearful yell
Panic had conquered all my senses, running was the first thought
The Glass beside me vibrated, and fell
Down came the tube lights and the frame
And as I rose up to run
I could not run as if I were lame
The ground beneath my feet began to shake
It reminded me of that roller coaster ride,
In which no one could get up, however hard he tried
The Floor was filled with crushed window glass
And I, still wondering, what had come to pass
But, when a strong vibration shook the whole house.
And put my senses all awake,
I knew it. “Oh Lord. It was an Earthquake”
I, by any means, wanted to get out on the street
But the cupboard fell on my feet.
Everything seemed to topple and crash.
Air was filled with dust and ash
I somehow managed to take out my legs
But it was too late
The inevitable hour, was on his wait
My happiest moment, began to flash
When the walls and ceiling began to squash
Bright red liquid flushed out from my neck
Where the wall had sunken in its peg
My heart refused to pump more blood;
And my lungs rebelled against the dusty air.
Tremors of the quake had twisted the world

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