When the Stars Ache is a booklet of poems which the poet released it in 1996 by Skylark Publications, Aligarh. Titles are not, just the poems are in the form of clusters of verses, standing in assemblage or in separation with an artistic bent of mind quite visible. Poetry to Mirza is art and artistic refinement. Poetry as an art and the poet as an artist are the things which come to  our mind as and when we sit for reading his verses. He is such a powerful poet who has the power to catch and contain in the aches of the stars.

You hold out
your hand
let me drip
like tears
on your palm
the candle
of my soul
is restless
– (Baldev Mirza, When The Stars Ache, Aligarh, 1996, p.5)

We just see the verses tumbling down to us. No comments to give or pass on. Just we want to turn over the pages. How to comment upon if art is converted into poetry? Baldev seems to be a visitor of art-galleries and poems tumble and drip down to us as the nectar of pure poetry. Just like honey drops these drip down on the sheets of art paper. The poet walks down the mist-laden turf of poetry soaked in emotion and feeling. He writes the verses of love soaked in tears and dew drops and is at once so sensitive and sensuous, so sensible and sensitive. How can it be a poetic heart so tenderly and soft to be broken at the touch of reality? Just like a sensitive plant, his is a poetry of shy and coy leaves.

When I open
the door
in the morning
you come
hand in hand
with the sun

I greet you
darkness dripping
down my cheeks

the sparrows nestling
in the house
join me
to welcome you

you enter the house
but I can’t see you

Are you a gust of breeze
fragrance of a rose
or a sweet memory? – (Ibid, p.6)

Baldev Mirza is a poet of love, that love which is but innocent, pure and sensuous. The sweet redolence of the roses he feels  it about. How do mists soak the petals? How do the dew drops gloss over the petals? The weeping of the night he can sense if anything makes her sob. Poetry to Baldev is love expressed for Rajanigandha as a fair and slim girl standing with a bouquet of fragrant jasmines to give.

When the stars ache
night goes dripping around
while dreaming of silvery wings

When the winds ache
the birds cry out
and crave for the
green landscape

When the trees ache
their shades ache too
and the traces burn
like burn

When my heart aches
I wash your memories
with my tears
Sarajevo June, 1988 – (Ibid, p.7)

When I think, is the canvas with which he writes love poetry based on supposition and proposition. Suppose, just suppose you, if she meets, comes upon by chance under the starry ways, under the twinkles mystical doing the rounds, how will it be? Whose anklets does he feel it about lilting, whose footfall does it seem to be approaching his door? If perchance she appears, how will it hold him aback? It is a matter of conjecture and reckoning.

When I think of you
white birds appear
from nowhere
and rush towards me
carrying white sheets
in their beaks
perhaps for me
to scribble poems
for you

When I think of you
distance begins to
vibrate with the sound
of your footsteps
and I find myself
In the whirlwind of
colourful feathers

When I think of you
fairies of my thoughts
get lost on the way
and knock at every door
perhaps in search of you
Sarajevo May 8, 1986 – (Ibid, p.8)

__________________________________________

I visualize you
walking under the rainbow
plucking its colours
like rare flowers
but looking for green petals
dreaming of Bodhi tree
It is the season of spring
I must be ready to go back
before green turns into white
you like to walk in snow,
flakes slipping down your cheeks
wish I could walk with you
hand in hand while talking
about spring and autumn
one framing you
with its colours
and fragrance
while the other nailing me
to  the wall of sufferings
I fondle the memory of my youth
blown about like a thirsty
gust of wind
I gather some blades of grass
- a green book with your name
in the beginning
and my name at the end
and let the rest of the pages
flutter without words
without thoughts
But I am afraid of the
faceless man who often
walks into me like a nightmare – (Ibid, p. 9-10)

The visionary glides, the dreamy glides he takes is really praiseworthy and it is a splendid intrinsic quality of his verses. A few have really penned like this. A few have really succeeded in putting poetic images in such an artistic way which but only the artists can accomplish it.

You take my wings
and fly across the
boundaries of my self
till the fire within me
is extinguished
till  the mirrors in our eyes
turn into  horizons
reflecting meadows opening
a green door to us
we have to return
our shadows to the sun
one day – (Ibid, p.11)

Let us see how uses and separates words to suit his artistic purpose, as for example the below-quoted poem:

Every morning
r u s h e s towards you
with its freshness
child-like innocence
lacteal smile
star-like dreams
and its secrets
for you to unfold

Every evening
comes w e a r i l y to me
brooding, grumbling
and sits beside me
gasping for breath
showing me on its feet
the last sunbeam
t r e m b l i n g – (Ibid, p.12)