टूटी साईकिल और किचन में पड़े बर्तन

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The autumn awaits for you
but this time I am not planning
to make you sweaters.


(Read Caption)

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You talk about region, religion, realism.
Well, all i see is chaos, conversion, cynicism.

(Read Caption)

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* You are on your own, so Get up.

*All is Well, You can still do it.

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Hey, it's me
Kaafi waqt ho gya nhi, mile, baat kiye, saath baethe. हिन्दी को हिन्दी में लिखना चाहिए, नहीं।


(Anyone interested, check the caption to read more).

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I don't have the energy to write anymore. Everything is so rusted. I just can't sit and write, I am afraid to see my emotions getting naked in front of me, mirroring that this is me, and I don't have any idea who am I and it's so hard to grow up and having no idea of what's going around you. Talking to your loved ones and realising that they so different people, they are as shattered as you are, they don't want to talk either. Since i have stopped writing, I feel like a part of me has stopped living. Earlier, I thought it's the muse which is gone, but now it's baring myself, you know like, cutting your flesh and bone. It hurts, it hurts a lot more, to tell the world that you are hurt and the biggest fear of not being understood and someone patting your back, that it's okay. It's hard. It's been three years now almost. I go back and find nothing. Nothing.

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There will come a day
when I will run away
from the chaos in my heart
and the traffic in my head
coz it's like that irritating cricket at night
which doesn't let you sleep.
I just feel like giving up
my energy drains after every 5 minutes.
Talking to you is too much
and this silence, kills my peace within.
It's just a matter of 5 minutes
and everything will vanish
into the words, never said before.
Either I will jump or I will drown.
Now you will break this sentence
thinking what the writer's expressing,
Is it melancholy in her words?
Or Is it her last piece,
written so long ago before everything ends
like manifesting her own death?
Why everything feels so shattered,
my chest feels so empty.
It's just a matter of 5 minutes,
Either you talk it out
or everything will vanish in this moment?
It's broken, like this poem.

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आज हम लोग यूँ हि बेवजह हुए प्यार की तस्वीर बयाँ करते है।

हुआ यूँ, वो दो पल की नज़्म सा,
बारिश का वास्ता लिए,
मेरे करीब आने से पहले ही
रुक गया,
मैं इनतेज़ार में बैठी
नामाज़ो से वक़्त का
हिसाब माँगने लगी।
ये ठहरा है या मैं ठहरी हूँ,
ये उलझन गिरोह बनने लगी।
आखिर मुझे कोई जवाब क्यूँ नहीं देता,
मैं तेरी हुँ, ये तू मुझसे क्यूँ नहीं कहता?
खैर छोड़ो,
बस इतना कह दो,
के मैं तुम्हे याद हूँ।
मेरी शब को जुगनू कर दो,
और मेरे आफताब को खुदा का नूर।
क्या हैं, मुझे इतना हक़?
कमज़र्फ़ अल्फ़ाज़, आज फिर
हमेशा की तरह तुम्हे रोक लिया
और तुम रुक गए।

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किताबों के बीच,
न जाने इश्क़ ने कब दस्तखत दी,
मैंने तो बस तुझे पढ़ना चाहा,
और तू मेरी कहानी बन गया।

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सफ़र


पहली मुलाक़ात बशीर सहाब से हुई,
दूसरी, आपकी चौखट से,
और वो शाम का इंतजार कभी खत्म ही न हुआ।

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