बस गई है तू मुझमें...
सुगंँध मेरी, तुझसी आती है...
इत्र कोई भी लगा लूंँ मैं...
खुशबू तो तेरी ही आती है...

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Your fragrance lead astray...
It was no longer an odour..

But a war aroma which pushed me closer to death..

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Nostalgia; an alluring state of human sentimentality wherein
the thoughts of an individual are teleported back to the
extinct and ecstatic moments of the past. Something, as
small as a dusty pencil, left under the wardrobe, could
spiral you back to those days of timidness, when,
you refrained from approaching your childhood
crush. A clamoring child, a tricky teenager
and an evolved adult possess expanding
amplitudes of memories, while a shrinking
elder, drifting away from the niceties of life,
is bombarded with those forgotten
memories by a sentient scent
called

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You smell like a cologne of
book sniffing of a new book and,
last like a scent of my oldest book.

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Your dress still
wears the scent of roses
that I gifted.

Yet our memories,
forgotten.

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तू इत्र है , तू सर्वत्र है ।
तू गुरूर है , तू गिरने को भी स्वतंत्र है ।।

तू राज है , तू जंगल की आग है ।
तू लक्ष्य है , तू राह है ।।

तू मधुर गीत है , तू उन्माद है ।
तू सूरज की आग है ,
तू चाँद की शीतल प्रकाश है ।।

तू लिबास है , तू हृदय की गहराई में बसा भाव है।
तू नोक-झोक है , तू हँसी की बौछार है ।।

तू पूरी जज़्बात है , तू अधूरी ख्वाव है ।
तू इश्क है , तू लाल 💝 है ।।

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The dust on the books
makes me sneeze hard,
have I inhaled
your scent
again?

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J u s t l i s t e n
t o m y r a i s i n g
h e a r t b e a t s,f e e l
t h e t e m p e r a t u r e
o f m y s i g h s, s m e l l
t h e s c e n t o f L o ve
y o u 'v e s p r i n k led
o n m y l i f e , a n d
y o u ' ll l o v e
m e t h e
s a m e
d o
I.

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The reason why one argues can be compared to why one uses perfume!!.. who knows whether he uses it to show his good scent or to hide his bad scent

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Self-love works like a scent;
The right amount can make
you feel a little more stylish,
a little more attractive
but
when it's Excrescent,
it becomes Suffocative.

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