When you take off your mask
and perform on the stage of reality.

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Home is where the people are,
love is where both seek shelter.

Oceans are where storms lie,
life is where both ensemble death.

Canvas is where colors express themselves,
eyes are the hole where both reside happily.

Book is where readers find writers,
and YQ is where both find solace.

Not until we put down that ink
and say goodbye to this world,
you remain carved on our parchment heart,
oh dear YQ.

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Choosing to write about people's lives while alive,
and hoping to be read about oneself after death.

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Not blaming yourself when someone wrongs you.

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May sits like the empty coffin
in front of the crematorium.
June awaits the count
of dead, not kept inside.

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An elegy to KK— % &Shayad tumhe bhi jaana tha
Kahin door kabhi ye batana tha
Dhoondte tere nishaan har jahan
Mil gye khud hi ko khud ka intehaan— % &My earphones have fallen down
every song you have ever sung
leaving me in emotions to drown
those traces I still find in my lung— % &Dil ibaadat kar raha hain
Waqt ne ye kaise kiya sitam
Keh dena ye bs jhoot hain
Hain vo awaaz zinda har qadam— % &Dusted in one corner is that guitar
Untouched, you hit the right chord
We treasure to call it a 90's memoir
Why did you leave so early, oh lord?— % &Kyun socha aur kahan alvida
dono baahon ko, thandi chaanv ko
hum bhi kar chale alvida— % &

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Truth always lies in the place where lie was born.

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— % &



— % &



— % &

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•can you see me•

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The place I never want to be in
(Caption)

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