To write a future,
I am re-writing History,

History shouldn't repeat,
So, I am changing present,

While writing on past...!

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बैठ जाती हूँ अक्सर मिट्टी मै,
मुझे मेरी औकत अच्छी लगती है |
कागज, कलम, जस्बात, मुस्कान,
मुझे मेरी यही पहचान अच्छी लगती है |

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आंसुओ की धार में
हर ग़म मेरे बह गए
हर खुशी मेरी बह गई
बस हम अकेले रह गए

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Am not writing
Am rewriting
My destiny

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My dear heart,
Can you hear me? I can hear you beat for me. Sometimes out of fear, sometimes out of rage, sometimes out of numbness. I'm sorry, for giving you these emotions. Happiness is the only thing you deserve, for making me feel alive. But, why did I fail to do? You always speak to me, giving me comfort, because you're the result of, our mom's sacrifice. You're awesome, because you were protective inside me, as protective as I were in our mom's womb. Oh heart, you're trying to reflect the good in everyone. How sweet you're. But why do you suffer for my insanity? You're precious to me. Please be as awesome as you're. I don't need a language to convey about you. Gratitude will be the best language to define and celebrate you.

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Can I get one more chance to rewrite a little part in my life.. !

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I’m gonna take this pencil of life and rewrite my own name.

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Resuming writing after years.....

Taking the first step could be difficult.... But walking after being immobilized for years is challenging....
I want to start writing again.
Need your all support and encouragement.

Thank you all :)

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The book has fallen sick
The stylus writhing in pain
Pages have turned so bleak
Without musings of the brain.
The artist lost in thought
His words rhyme no more,
His feelings don't work,
His fingers no longer sore.
It takes a long, long time
But the illness is not healed;
The poetic block strikes hard,
And creative flow stays sealed.
He waits for the day,
He scrapes through the night,
And then something happens;
He regains his literary might.
He feels anguish and pain,
A sudden gush of emotions,
To write down his sadness
Created by illogical notions.
The words will flow again
And so will the ink,
Poetry will now be served
To find that "missing link".

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What is happening now is rewriting everything that happened before.

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