The Grind

Ripened red cherries of coffee,
undressed to their core
naked beans trembling,
tempted and roasted to pour.

The crack in the middle,
crushed with eager palms,
fragrance like thirst,
too wild to be calm.

Impatient Warm fingers,
caressing the porcelain curves,
Steam curls like breath on skin,
longing in the nerves.

Thrust through the dark grind,
a stream begins to softly sweat,
to lose the self, to become one
drops of ecstasy, we can't forget

Brewed and pressed closer,
the press descends really slow,
The cream swirls in whispers...
"Oh, sugar! please more!"

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Kuch aaye bade shauk se,
kuch taraste hue aaye
kuch aaye dhoop se chhip ke,
aur, kuchh baraste hue aye

Kuch ki neeyat kharaab thi,
aur, kuch saaf niyat se aaye
kuch ki tabiyat kharab thi,
baaki Khauf-e-mehroomiyat se aaye

Humne toh sab ko bulaya bhi na tha
dil me mehmaan magar
bade izzat se aye.

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Khwaabon ki chahat thi magar so na saka
Dardnuma dil bhi mera ro na saka
Yeh kaisi adaavat hai meri neend se
Mila toh nahi magar kho na saka

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He has this whimsical request for his future wife—whoever she may be. He wants to ask her to wear a specific scent every night when she comes into his arms, so that the scent becomes woven into every beautiful memory they create together. Then, whenever he misses her, he can close his eyes and feel her presence, as if she’s right there beside him.

He wants to smile at the mere thought of her—her breath brushing against his skin, warm and soft, her lips so close that he can almost taste the sweetness of her words before she even speaks. He wants to be so close to her that even the faintest whisper of space between them feels unbearable, an ever-growing desire to dissolve into her, to become one.

He wants to hold her so tightly that not even a rose petal could slip between them—their bodies, their souls, and the stories they will build together. The scent would be his anchor, a way to keep her close, even when she’s far away.

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Aksar jo zimmedariyon me
mashroof nazar aata hai
Bas ek paegaam
apni pasandida aurat ka
Aur mard poora din
behadd khush nazar aata hai hai

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Lehar sari ka Sabz noor
Nazar me hai, nagar se door
Ashq kitne hain, aas se poocho
Door kabse hain, paas se poocho

Maloom bhi hai
Maine kaise yeh tadap sambhaali
Bistar se thodi
dikhta hai Anvaar e shumali

Shamaa aasama me aani hai sanam
Dar dar meri Kahani hai sanam
Der hi sahi par aa' jaanaa
Saari baaten batani hain sanam

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Todte waqth dil mera
Thodi si jhijak toh hui hogi
Khud hi se uski thodi zhadap hui hogi
Jitna tadpaa main ishq me uske
Kya use bhi utni tadap hui hogi

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Zindagi kehta hun tumhe, par tum
Nigaahon me apne kazaa leke aati ho

Main khataa kar hi nahi pata
Tum door reh ke sazaa leke aati ho

Kabhi aati ho khwaabon me Bewajah
Baahon me magar wajah leke aati ho

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Mujhe neend aajaaye
yeh khwahish hai meri
Magar aajaye toh sona laazmi nahi

Main sapne ka apne
Sach hone ke aas me nahi

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Main har sardi ki dhoop ko
Teraa khat samajhta hun
Meri awaz, meri tadap
Mera junoon tujh tak aata hai kya?
Ashiq, haerat e aashiqui
Khud ko kho ke paata hai kya ?

Dozakh banaali hasti humne
Tera pata puchhte hue
Safar Jannat ka
Tujhse hoke jaata hai kya?

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