Shab-e-vasl ho aai
Roshni ka zariya chahiye

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An unfinished cigarette butt
Or maybe two
(Full poem in the caption)

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The magician had supposedly created an illusion so powerful and compelling that he started believing it's real.
And when he wanted to dispel the perilous delusion, he simply couldn't.

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Standing in front of the mirror I noticed something irregular. Even with the usual uncanny resemblance, my reflection troubled me. It mirrored my movements perfectly but with a menacing smile,
like it had grown a brain of it's own. Grim reaper's despair, a nasty aura, enveloped it.
And then it sat down to write my eulogy.

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I tore a piece of paper in half and placed it on my desk to scrutinize my art work. Five good hours later when the sun called it a day I could only draw one conclusion: I'm a demented lunatic.

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The deadly black spider crawled
under the impression that it
wasn't being watched. Joy crept
into my sealed heart as it
dragged itself closer to its feeble
little pray. A faint voice inside my
head told me to stop the bloody kill,
but I must confess that I feel like a monster.

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I left my footsteps on the snow.
I look at them and shake my head, for they cause the solo turmoil on the glistening white sheet of snow.
Soon my miserably beating heart eases with the frostiness of million snow flakes sent from heaven itself to cover up my sins.

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Khub kasak h zakham-e-zaalim main
Dil-e-najaat chahte bhi hain ar nahi bhi

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Please don't go.
(Caption)

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K Zindagi ne dheeme se
mera hath thaam liya
Aur Angaro pe chal k bhi
har kadam mehfoos sa lagne laga

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