shaayri ek ada hai khayal ko bayaan karke bhi chupaane ki.


Poetry is a way of expressing the thought without revealing it.

It is time to shut the doors and walk to the fire...
for there rests my soul, the ashes under the coal.

The end is near,
no respite in sight.

I am tired,
there's only so much I can fight.

Aching muscles don't even hurt,
it's the Heart that has hit the mud.

The mind is numb,
Is this proof that I'm nothing but a runt?

baithe hain tanha yahaan,
nahi hai tera koi nishaan,
teri yaadon mein khoye hain,
jaane kabse nahi soye hain!


I'm sitting alone here,
there is no sign of you.
Lost in your memories,
haven't slept in a while!

VA at 22:31 on 07 April

left all alone....dats all....but still carryin on wid life....

Me: at 23:07 on 07 April

tanha ke saath bhi to tanhayee hoti hai...
akela insaan tab hota hai jab tanha hone ke bawajood tanhayee uske saath na ho...

A lonely person is not alone,
for there is solitude with him,
A human is alone only when
he is alone but there is no solitude.

Vazandaar Dil

Dil ka vazan mehsoos ho raha hai,
aise jaise pehle kabhi hua nahi.

Gamnawaazi bhi nahi hai,
koi haadsa bhi nahi.

Phir kya hai ki ye ekdum hi,
ho gaya vazandaar dil.


The weight of the heart is being felt,
like never felt before.

There is no sorrow,
nor any accident.

Then what has happened,
that this heart is so heavy?

haatim haazir hai haakim ke darbaar mein,
hijaab ho raha hai neelam haraarat ke baazar mein,
phir hairani kya ki hua ye haadisah,
phir hairani kya ki hubb hai is haal mein.


The generous have been summoned to the court of the ruler,
The veil is being auctioned in the market of lust,
Then what be the surprise that something so unfortunate has happened,
Then what be the surprise that this be the condition of love.

Was I wrong?

As all hope is vanquished,
that feeling is brought forth.
That the world was right,
And I was wrong.

As the rain,
only increases the pain,
this brain,
seems no more worthwhile than a clogged drain.

Sometime I wonder,
is the rationale behind my past acts so weak,
that every trouble,
leads me to evaluate the correctness of them.

Was I wrong in hurting the dusk,
replying to the questions with a mum?
Was I wrong, back then,
in walking out of the hall?

Was I wrong,
in standing for what I thought was right,
and still think it is/was?


Even as I was writing this I was FBing. And got the news of one of the people from my past winning a national level beauty pageant. Sent a 'Congratulations' message.

I sit here jobless waiting for... and constantly coming to know of the people from my past who are excelling in their respective fields. Am I jealous - No. Am I happy - never knew them well enough to be happy for them, as much as I would want to.

While all that I want to do in life is just to while it through with a smile on my face. Sometimes even that becomes so difficult. Not because of the pain of what's happening to me but because of the pain that is caused by that feeling of being wrong.

With only an imaginary person, created from the remnants of the past, consoling me and telling me I'm right. And pushing me along. And since I don't suffer from schizophrenia, am aware that I can't trust the judgement of her, because she is nothing but a creation of me.

And again, as I am reminded of her, the feeling creeps in, Was I wrong?

Once in a while...

Once in a while,
look towards the skies.
There I shall be,
Not further than a mile.
Waiting for you,
on the clouds benign.