The Difficulty of Being Good

Light fairies, black and white
Whisper in your ears
All that you could
All that you should
This heavy choice, my friend
Is the difficulty of being good

Paths meander, diverge and converge
At tiring testing crossroads
So often you have stood
Analysing every outcome’s likelihood
This enslaving freedom, my friend
Is the difficulty of being good

Your history, half-remembered and half-forgotten
You can't tell who you are
Hoping to be understood
You hide under your hood
This conflicted self, my friend
Is the difficulty of being good

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इश्क़ की अदालत में
न लगा वकालत की बाज़ी
वहाँ इंसाफ़ भला कैसा
जहाँ मुलज़िम ही है क़ाज़ी

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A stressed out mind is like the average doctor at a college infirmary: it starts prescribing oversimplified solutions without making a genuine effort to diagnose the problem.

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You quench my thirst.

You nourish me.

I can’t live without you.

But holding you together – that’s not easy. It’s only as attainable as the strength of the vessel and all that I’ve got are fragile. They break one by one. You spill and spread before my eyes. Like the destruction of horcruxes in small but painful blows, I lose you a little at a time.

You can’t water me. I can’t water you.

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Sleep well.
After all, what’s life without missing a third of it?

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The more you discover within,
the more you can live without.

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क़ैद करलो इन ख़्यालों को
लफ़्ज़ों के जाल में
न जाने किसकी उड़ान की
वजह बन जायें

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प्यार पे काम
करते करते
न प्यार रहा
न काम हुआ

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people stayed.
So why did I think
I needed to go everywhere
when anywhere might be
just as good.

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Friday evenings be the sole reason to get up on Monday mornings.

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