True Love

True love exists. They find each other, support each other through thick and thin and live happily ever after...

But true love does not exist...Or exists only in books or movies.

In true life,  they find each other, love? are attracted to each other and then by some twist of fate (read inconvinience) are seperated from each other.

But then, wonder of wonders, they break up and are perfectly happy leading their lives as if they had not known each other at all.

Perfect Strangers..

Tumhaari yaad..

Ek aisi band botal hai

Jis ko ik band kitaab ki tarha dil ke kisi kone mein chhupaye baithi hoon

Aur jab tumhaari yaad aati hai to

Is botal ko khol ke mein is ke itr mein naha jaati hoon

Is ki khusboo meri rooh to masroor hi sahikar deti hai

Aur phir…

Mein tumhaari yaad to qaid kar ke

Waapis dil ke usi kone mein rakh deti hoon

Garche tum nahin to tumaari yaad hi sahi

Kyunke woh tumhaari tarha bewafa nahin......

How does  withering of love feel like and what does it look like to the outsider?
A full-bloom flower suddenly gone withering?
No.
A flower slowly withering, losing its beauty by every passing day, its hue the hue of rust, of death.
It does not scream and drop suddenly on the ground. as if stabbed in the heart.

It just slowly, imperceptably fades away. Like the love that has learnt to live without its beloved, who has resigned itself to its fate, is now companions with loneliness and is used to the indifference shown its way.

It reminds itself of the love that was, the fragrance it emits, diminishing. It can feel it, but it can not express it. The epicenter is there no more. And still it carries out, unknown to the world, pretending every thing is under its feeble control....

Silence

                                                                   Silence

Silence....

Silence speaks

When no language suffices

When words become insufficient

It hangs in the air between you & me 

Like water vapours

Tears waiting to be shed..

 

Silence speaks

It is screaming now

echoing it own shadow of mirth 

Like a clown aping its own actions

 

Silence speaks

It is mourning the  death

Death of our joys, our dreams, our ambitions

Like a lead wall

Every action, every commotion bouncing back to one's self

 

And yet 

I sit... silently...

Acting as if nothing has happened

To appear unconcerned...

The tears vanished, unshed....

Absorbed by silence  

   

  

 

Sometimes you feel like a caged bird that is trapped in a cage, even if the  cage is made of gold, it would still be called a cage. right?

No matter how happy you look from outside, inside you know there is a volcano looking to burst...
But with no outlet, u just let it cook up, until you are ready to burst yourself...

You are the wine I have not tasted
You are the thoughts that are blasphemous

You are the jewel I cannot adorn....
You are the bird I can only sight...
High in the sky...
Out of my reach...

Woh ek pal

Sometimes a small moment is worth a lifetime. Insaan us ek lamhe main apni tamaam zeest ka safar poora ker le. Apni kul kainat ka nichor us ek lamhe mein daal de. Us lamhe mein apni poori zindagi ji le.

Sahih ghalat, accha bura, us baat ki tameez main woh apni baaki tamam umar guzaar de gaa.

Lekin abhi the 'now' is important. Use jeene keliye use dimaagh ki nahin, dil ki zaroorat hai.

Us ke baat shayad ab yeh baat samajh aa sakti hai, ke kyunkar ek parwaana, ek shama ke gird apni zindagi khaitma ker lene mein hi apne aap ko laafani tassawar karta hai.i.

Us ki is gustaakhi, is sarphiri kaa anjaam jo bhi ho, us ek lamhe keliye woh mehboob se qurbat haasil ker ke apni destiny, apni taqdeer ko poora kar leta hai. Apni zaat ka haasil use is ek lamhe mein mil jaata ha