It started,
Slightly, slowly, with hiccups,

But, (...long story short...)

It never concluded, in any sense.
None that I understand.

Was that an end?
The end (whatever it is), was it defined by anyone?

No, no one will ever know, not even us.

It was not an end, was it?
May be, end of something,
But
Not of us.
What was it, was that an end?

Can be an end of a small part of the big future I see together (just me?), Not sure.

Without you,
It's not complete,
It is not sufficient.
Talking about me,
Or my life?
Or my future?
I am not sure.
Can never be.

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ज़ाहिद शराब पीने से काफ़िर हुआ मैं क्यूँ,
क्या डेढ़ चुल्लू पानी में ईमान बह गया !

-

शोख़ियों में घोला जाये फूलों का शबाब
उसमें फिर मिलायी जाये थोड़ी सी शराब
होगा यूँ नशा जो तैयार...
वो प्यार है !

-

-

about the dark-brown
concoction in a fat glass bottle,
i don't harbor many memories.
except that it was what i poured
into plastic cups on a nippy
November evening, having failed
a semester paper, with a guy
who became friend for life.
and that I remembered it
again when I met her
honey-colored eyes,
the color of Old Monk
in our pegs of three-fouth Cola,
losing myself in the quicksand
of love and never to be reciprocated,
with the acerbic hangover
claiming my heart.

i don't harbor much
memories of the rum:
except that I lived both
eternity and evanescence
in its surreal poison.

-

Dear Old Monk,
When every friend became
tired of being a listener
to my rants, you kept me going.

-

For me, she was the Old Monk,
That got me high,
For her, I was just a Monk.
That made me shy.

-

It's time for old monk
The world is ready for your honk.

-

College के दिनों को फिर से
जीना चाहते हैं ,
दोस्त आज फिर Old Monk
पीना चाहते हैं ।

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