The poem started with a crimson tinge
The poem started with the welcome drizzle..
The poem was damp and dewy
With the warmth of care..

But one moonlit night
He took away the warmth..
He took away the drizzle
He took away the crimson..

But it's not dark for the moon stays up with me..
But it's not black, as my hopes paint it grey..
But it's not dry as my tears keep it moist..

Today my poem - our poem ,
Looks for words - in silence..in nothingness
It remained unfinished for I couldn't unlearn the lived...

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Kin aankhon se roye...

In aankhon mein
Ek taraf woh yaadein hai..
Dusri taraf ashkein...

Aansuon se woh yaadoin ko mitaaye kaise...

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They say it's difficult to build a corner for the half left sighs, the untold words, the unlived wishes...

Try to talk to them, make them feel alive
Include them in your solitude not loneliness...
Trust me you will see a haven built for the unattended twigs...

There you go...they are safe now...
It's easy isn't it?

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Tum Kya kabhi usey kho jaate huye dekhe ho?
Woh Jo tumhara kabhi tha hi nahi..
Woh Jo kabhi tumhara ho hi nahi sakta tha..
Woh Jo bas ek muskaan tha...
Woh Jo bas ek intezar tha..
Woh Jo apna nahi tha phir bhi ek aadat tha..

Tum Kya kabhi usey kho jaate huye dekhe ho?
Tum Kya kabhi usey khamoshi mein ghul jaate huye dekhe ho?

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Just look into the mirror and ask yourself...

"How perfect am I ?
Was I like this from the beginning or someone showed me how to get here?
How much inferior am I to many people?"

Evaluate, be a reviewer.. be a critic to show the path of improvement..

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I give my heart and soul to my dear ones and friends...
I am not boasting but I can give one innumerable opportunities even after hurting me.. and stay friends..

But I really can't forgive from my heart if one breaks my trust...
Just become indifferent..coz fighting is not my thing...

-

To read through silence and few sighs !

-

I want to be the haven
Of your soul,
That's what I desire !

-

Dil ke ek kone mein

Kuchh lamhe aise padhe hai..
Jo qaid naa hoke bhi qaid hi hai..
Dafan hum Kar sakte hai nahi ...
Naa hi wapas unhe jee sakte hai..

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To introspect, they say...

I call it digging out my soul..
Listen to the stories that stay buried inside the robe of the heart..

Just to give a word to the bruised soul...
"I will always look into your eyes baby and put you off the bruises, miseries"
Your pride will not be dissolved nor will it be called vanity.. ever..

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