तुम्हारी यादें भी इस गुलाब जैसी हैं,
पूरा मन महका देती हैं।

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She is a language he wants to learn,
She is a reward he wants to earn,
She is a perfect mystery,
that he wants to solve,
To know her in and out,
Is his latest resolve,
She is the magic herself,
He is under the spell,
He sings praises for her,
The boy who used to yell,
She has him by the hook,
A smile is all that took,
A man of culture and words,
Is mesmerized by the look,
Her beauty is infinite like the sea,
And he is finite like the shores,
He speaks her now,
And all he says is "I am yours".

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i saw your silhouette in red,
Mesmerized I kept looking,
Observed so many things unsaid,

Rest in caption!! 🤫

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A random text from the known stranger,
Mind alarm rings - it's danger,
Listening to the heart a 'Hi' is sent,
Rules of brain who has not bent,
Conversation moves forward,
And care takes a seat,
Reminiscing old times and moments,
Oh 'our' time was actually sweet,
Then comes thundering clouds of trauma,
Raining reasons of why we parted,
Trying to see of each other,
The end moment has started,
Hate is not there anymore,
Nor is any bad feeling,
Love is not lost clearly,
Bittersweet pain we feeling.

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You know? I reached there yesterday and it rained alot.

Where ?

At the temple.

But it was sunny yesterday!

Eyes..

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I know that wars inside my head are far greater than the one being fought in the outside world.

I have killed, lived, survived, thrived and done all the good and the bad stuff all in my head.

It's like I am playing all the scenarios and possibilities at the same time in my head.

The canvas and the paper is empty because the chaos is inside me.

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Among the chaos
and storm
I found calm.

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मैं लिख सकता हूं,
मुझे गाना नहीं आता,
धुन गुनगुना सकता हूं,
सुर को ताल संग बिठाना नही आता,

आता है तो कागज़ पर बह जाना,
खुद पर रोक लगाना नहीं आता,
तुम सब कुछ हो मेरे,
कम शब्दों में बताना नहीं आता,

मेरे शब्द, मेरा इश्क, मेरी शिद्दत,
सब तुम से ही तो है,
खूब जानती हो तुम,
की मुझे जताना नहीं आता,

लेखाकार बना ही इसलिए,
की हीरो के मन की बता सकूं,
कंभक्त गायक ना बन सका मैं,
क्योंकि मुझे गाना नहीं आता।

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1. Voice of my parents.

2. Myself.

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1. They write love in the most romantic way.
2. They write hate in the most piercing way.
3. They don't know how to balance the above two.
4. Those who know how to balance, haven't been on the extreme ends of emotions.

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