I don’t write love poems,
But the taste of your lips still lingers like poetry.
Our love was a shooting star,
No matter how many wishes I make,
No matter how many metaphors the universe envisions,
No matter how many times you promise yourself that this will last,
Remember stars were meant to crash and burn.
This is to remind myself , that I survived the fall.

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बहुत मुश्किल होता हैं,
वो लम्हा जब आप टूट रहे हो
और मुस्कुराना आपकी
मजबूरी बन जाए!!!

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It will be relieved, all feel good hormones automatically activated,
As it's Saturday night !!
No Alarm clock today,
Let the writer's overworked mind lie unconscious till the eyelids lift on their own on a late Sunday.

Really a Goodnight 🙃

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Finally she planned a surprise party for her brother, so that he could propose him, the love of his life....

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I don't want to make a habit of anything or anybody . Later it hurts dear. Let it , because it's my fault that I made the habit.

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This peace of mind since so long..

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I think it was the last day.
She held my hand for a while, embracing my fingers together.
Then her fingers moved around my ring finger like she was unscrewing the screwed.
She gently took off my tight stuck favorite ring.
She slid that ring on her ring finger.
And she left.
Leaving me and my tan hand with the indentation band of porcelain skin.
Her hand prints gave me the permanent souvenir.
I still keep it that way; not wearing any ring on that porcelain ring.

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Happiness is when you stuck at some work and it get resolved finally 😄all the efforts behind this worth it now ❤️

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Well enough is enough
I said atlast to myself ...

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अब हमने भी अपना ली है, ये सोच गंदगी भरी
तुम सुकूं से बिताओं, अपनी राह -ए - जिंदगी.. !!

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