The Wardrobe of the Dying Corpse

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I'm trying so hard to stay alive.
Not physically! No!
But there is something inside me slowly dying and I don't know how to keep it shining & hoping....

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Aisa hota mera muqaddar, to achcha hota
K tu hee banta mera dilber, to achcha hota
Jab bhi zindagi ki daud dhoop se thak ke aata,
Teri aagosh hoti mera bister, to achcha hota
Dil ki ye aarzoo bhi badi pyari lagti hai hame,
K wo sota mujhse lipatkar, to achcha hota.
Unke sitam ki sikayat unse ki to Bura man gae,
Gar aur rakhte dil pe paththar, to achcha hota.
Eid ka chaand dikha to Magar ye hasrat rahi,
K Wo dikh jaate "uves" chat par, to achcha hota.

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Sometimes you have to shout "PLEASE DON'T DIE" in the ears of love within you and prepare it for loving someone whom you don't even know...

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Sit beside me sparing some time
I'll let you know, what my condition is!
If you'll ask my well being from so far,
I'll say, everything is fine!!

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Between dying butterflies
in the stomach
that now hide,
their heads down
with wings closed tight,
their tints not so bright,
to ephemeral mayflies
fluttering around my chest,
swarming for the last five minutes
before the tolling of the bell
at the awakening of the light,
our love released
a final death rattle,
hissing into my ears
a sibilance of stillness,
a sullen stagnancy.
And you dropped through
my skin like a sweet drop of sweat —
unwanted, unneeded, unnecessary;
but essential, its dropping.

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In the withering petals
of pressed roses
between the sepia pages
of a dying story,
I wait for you to close
the book you stopped reading
a long time ago.

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her dying breath
took his soul away..

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Par jitna hi kareeb aaoge tum hume utna hi bikhra paaoge Ab to khaamoshi se bhi mohabbat ho gayi hai hume jab bhi aaoge hume hamari khaamoshiyon me dooba paaoge

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PRESERVED

Today,
in the organized mess
of dying memories,
I found your blue pilot pen
the fine-tip German Luxor;
its ink running dry
like our love
last held in your hand in 2014.
I feel your fingers
hand it over to me.
I never really wrote a word with it—
“Something like that should be preserved,”
I had said.
And you had hollowed out
your heart to fill it with my love—
“I'll always preserve it,”
you had said.

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