Hum jab mehfil me the to wo sath ho gaen aur jab hum tanha hue to unko mehfil mil gaee.

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...a six year old with curly short hair,
Smiling with pure joy and happiness,
Humming on the tunes of mynah,
Jumping in the park fearlessly,
Curiously discovering new things,
Fading into the blues,

Wonder where she is now?

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What if our lives are a recorded series,
What if we have audience looking at us, judging us, and becoming a fan as well.
What if we are presenting various phases of life,
What if our problems are just climax eventually to have a destined end,
What if life isn't to live but to learn from,
What if we are the fictitious characters falling, learning, evolving to set an example.
What if this isn't a 'what if' ?

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मुझे सपनें देखने का चाव हैं ।
आँखें बंद हो या खुली, बस एक ख़्वाब, हर वक़्त मेरे साथ हैं ।।

लोग कहते हैं मुझे, हक़ीक़त में जिया करों ।
जैसे सब जीते हैं, कुछ वैसा ही किया करों ।।

मैं ज़्यादा कुछ तो नहीं जानती ।
पर ख़ुदा ने जब दमाग दिया हैं, तो यहीं कभी कबार हूँ सोचती-कहती ।।

कि हक़ीक़त मेरी, उस नीम के पेड़ पर लगे निबौरी के फल जैसी हैं ।
जो हैं तो मीठी, पर उगती उस कड़वे नीम के पेड़ पर हैं ।।

तो उस हक़ीक़त में जीने से बेहतर तो ये हैं ।
कि उसी दरख़्त की डाली पर रस्सी डाल झूला झूलूँ ।।

जो आँखों में किसी किस्म का ख़ौफ़ नहीं ।
बस उन सपनों को दिखाए जाए ।।

शायद ये एक लौती ज़िन्दगी, सिर्फ़ कागज़ कमाने में नहीं ।
पर उसी कागज़ को ख़्वाबों की सियाही से भीगाने में जाए ।।

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The onlookers may consider you loony but they will never experience that bliss when your fictitious mind takes you nowhere but to your fantasyland.

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I red that there is a world of microbes
Inside our little stomach,
who struggles everyday to
live one more sec.

What if we too, our world too is inside
Someone's stomach, inside a giant's stomach?
Maybe the reason behind shaking
of our land rarely sometimes is
because of the high jump made by that giant, maybe the reason behind the strong wind suddenly is because of that the giant sneeze out or cough out, and the sun, being made up with the HCl.

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"I am not perfect,
The daemon on my shoulder
Is always lurking.
Somewhen I win over myself,
That it's all good.
Then again that's not me thinking,
That's the daemon's purpose.
Making me believe,
That doing something wrong
Was worth it.
But all I have to do is focus.
Yes! I already know this.
It makes me feel worthless,
Switching sides is a skill,
from dark to light
Good people, yet bad influence in
Disguise. I see you fake
Trying so hard. Yes, it burns like tonnes of friction, causing wildfires through
My forest like heart.
I guess emotions have become my game. A sanctuary of troubles.
As all phases of life, I shall walk through. Why?
Life is beautiful.

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Dive into the ocean of literature
and you are all set for a voyage
where entire universe
celebrates the
"journey"
without waiting for destination.

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Between the pages of a book is a lovely place to be

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