Love is sane feeling which makes the protagonist
highly accomplished and fortunate,
Love makes the beholder unassumingly genuine,
Farce is that it’s highly subtle and unstable
Bring in possessiveness, unending envy, restlessness
and seizure of feelings and piercing mental digression.

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If love is true then there is no need for infidelity
If your partner loves you immensely
then there is no point of insecurity 
Despite being far away, still feeling closer to each other then there is no question of missing for eternity 
With utmost sincerity,  it is a lovely desirability 

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The very insecurity is charming as it draws one closer to the divine.The more it is the more it results faith in divine.

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How much we are trying to hide
Lest the world will know it.
How much we are trying to show
Knowing very well, we are not it.

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Insecurity gives glamour and adds suspense to the life making it interesting and livable.

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डर लगता है।

नहीं रखती ज्यादा तालुक किसी से, क्योंकि लगाव से डर लगता है।

नहीं रखती किसी को पाने की ख्वाइश, क्योंकि किसी को खोने से डर लगता है।

नहीं रखती किसी से उम्मीद मैं, क्योंकि हर उम्मीद के टूटने से डर लगता है।

बहुत नाज़ो से जोड़ा है खुद को, फिर से टूट जाने के ख्याल से डर लगता है।

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પોતાની જાતને હરહમેશ માટે બીજાની નજરમાં
નીચી જ , અસભ્ય , social skill ના અભાવે
રોજીંદા વ્યવહારમાં છતી થઈ જતી એ બધી
અણ આવડતોને સંગ પોતે રંગે રુપે કદરૂપાં
હોવાની પોતે જ પોતાના માટે બનાવી દીધેલી
એક માનસિક વિચારધારા જ તો એનું મૂળ છે ,
~~~~~~~~~~
*લઘુતાગ્રંથી*
~~~~~~~~~~
એ તો જાતે જ ઉપજાવેલી કાઢેલી એક
*લાચારી* છે , *વિવશતા* છે ,
*દીનતા* છે, *કંગાલિયત* છે .

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Offence comes from insecurity.
If there is existence of insecurity only then one can get offended.
Similarly only insecure people try to offend others.

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तेरी बेवफाई से खुद को बचाती हूँ मै,
तूझे कोई पसंद ना आ जाए,
इसलिए दुनिया भर कि खुबसूरती को
तुझसे छुपाती हूँ मै,
यूँ तो पति पत्नी का रिश्ता भरोसे से होता हैं,
मगर तू मेरे सिवा किसी को देख ना पाएं,
ऐसी कोशिश मे हर बार सफल हो जातीं हूँ मै,
एक अविश्वास तो मेरे दिल में हमेशा हीं रहता हैं,
कि तू नहीं तो इस दुनिया में मेरा कौन,
इसलिए शायद हर बार ऐसा कर जातीं हूँ मै।

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i hate this world, where hearts grow cold,
People change so fast, or so i'm told.
Distance blurs memories of love once had,
A fading spark, now distant and sad.

No love seems enough, for anyone's thirst,
They yearn for more, their hearts feel cursed.
To keep on loving, becomes a burden to bear,
For hearts worn thin, weary beyond repair.

Time, once a gift, now a task to complete,
Love turned into work, no longer sweet.
The memories we shared, now stored away,
In dusty corners, where they slowly decay.

-- together someday

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