farid khan

Farid (b-29/1/1975) is a young Hindi poet, now –a- days he is writing scripts for Films and TV serials.

e - mail : kfaridbaba@gmail.com

Farid Khan is a coeval poet who makes you take a second look at your perception of life and social conditions. His thoughts transform into words which bring forth the black and white together with the gray areas of modern day life. You'll find that poetry being Farid's heartfelt expressions, conveys the clarity, turmoil, the confusion, and the humble submission of thoughts and emotions in simple words.

Aparna Bhagwat

painting:jai  zharotia

GANGA MOSQUE

Down the memory lane

I recall those childhood days in Patna

I used to stare for hours at the waters of Ganga

standing on the top of a minaret of a Ganga-Mosque.

Ganga used to prank about and kick the Mosque

used to say in her wanton ways: Hey, Musalmaan! You’ve never bathed in my holy waters!

Then she took a turn and rushed far away laughing mischievously.

Laughing boisterously, the Mosque too did not spare Ganga and pushed her to the distant end.

Even the birds chirped blithely at that.

This pandemonium jolted the muezzin out of his afternoon siesta

and the Mosque hurried back to its place

Ganga too slipped down to Bengal.

And the birds twittered and mocked the muezzin.

The muezzin used to lower down a bucket from the minaret top

and drew Ganga water for his prayers

he did the vuzu

then performed the azaan.

People came too

drew Ganga water

did vuzu and performed the namaaz

and returned back.

Now after eighteen years

I stand on top of the same minaret

gazing, while Ganga gently laps the Mosque.

Now the government supplies clean water for performing vuzu

and the muezzin sleeps restlessly , occasionally changing sides.

Ganga kisses and drenches the Mosque lovingly

but the Mosque has turned his face away.

Ganga looks at me bewildered

and I look at Ganga

the Mosque looking in another direction, indifferent.

A Tiger 


I believe to save the game of his existence
The tiger will become a poet ,
just as the dinosaurs evolved into lizards .
And at times the poet into a tiger


It is only a Paw
which makes a tiger and a poet- compeers .
They both leave their pug marks, only to get killed.

Mahadev

As the Sun rises

the sky turns azure

It seems Mahadeva has awakened

A Neel - Purush ( The Divine cerulean ) is ready to get upright and slowly brushes off ash .

The azure soul turns bright and luminous .

As the Sun moves down , Mahadeva is again engrossed in his meditation .

The dark blue turns sapphire ... deeper and fathomless .

And the night approaches .

 (Translated by Aparna Manoj)