कभी कभी सोचती हूं
कितना खुशनसीब है ये आसमान
कि मैं ज़मीन से जिसे तांका करती हूं,
वो तेरी इमारतो की खिड़कियो से
तुझे झांका करता है।

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Beautiful.

"..he caught me looking at him and I wonder what dawned on him..."
Interrupted, my words grew feeble like the last glint of afterglow
"Look at the new moon" my friend pointed at the silver arc chasing the pine trees
Transfixed, we stared at the moon, the moon stared back
"Oh god, so beautiful!" I cried out.
"Exactly" my friend replied.

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I look at my clogged sink and kitchen fuming thinking of oceans and volcanoes. How could someone be so close to and so far away from reality?

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Waiting all year long only to not see you at the end is my spring defeated.

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I clearly remember the time when I wrote my first happy poem. It
was a war-free epoch in and out
And it still boggles my mind how much I've fought
To erase the ease of a time
That never existed.

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There's an unpacked gift on my bed
Some gibberish for a poem in my journal
Two cigarettes unattended
It's not romantic
Solitude is, in fact, vaguely haunting

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ज़िन्दगी इतनी मुश्किल ना होती
अगर यह समझना आसान होता
कि जिनको जाना था वो चले गए।

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मैंने तुम्हारे

लिए

तुम जैसी
ही

एक
कविता लिखी
है।

बिखरी हुई। ‌‌

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मुझे कीमती तौहफे मत दिया करो
मुझे समझ नहीं आता उनके साथ क्या करूं
अब देखो ना
ये ज़िन्दगी भी यूं ही पड़ी हैं।

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तुम मुझे उतने ही अच्छे लगने लगे हो
जितना की रात भर जागने वाली‌ आँखो में काजल।

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