ग़ैर बनके मिला ना करो तुम हमसे,
ख़फ़ा हो ज़रूर जुदा ना हो तुम हमसे,
बेकद्री मैं कभी अंजाने में वो गुनाह हुआ था,
गरजते तो बादल भी हैं कभी,
सूरज भी उनसे क्या कभी छुपा होगा।।।।
Gair banke na mila karo tum humse,
Khfa ho zaroor juda na ho tum humse,
Bekadri Main kabhi anjane main voh gunah huya tha,
Garajte toh badal bhi hain kabhi,
Suraj bhi unse kya kabhi chupa hoga…..
We are all here searching for something sent away from us, cloaked in a form not recognizable to the present us.
The clouds can stay only for a while longer…………
A curse sat upon them.
They fell in love.
होश आया था उस दिन जिस दिन रूप देखा तेरा,
अब तो मदहोश हो जाने को क्या, ज़िक्र ही काफ़ी तेरा ।।।।
मेरी पहली हिंदी पंक्तिया… ।
An empty glass set aside the table was her only chance at redemption. Her only means to diminish the very obvious…..
Who are they?
Just mortal men,
Bound by the flesh so same,
Downed by the fears so real,
Churned by the grind oh so tough,
Who are they?
Just mortal men,
They sleep sometimes,
See nothing but a rewinded memory,
A flashback,
Maybe a dwindling face,
Or just a voice that brings a smile on their face,
Who are they?
Just mortal men,
They do bleed as well,
The color same as the living,
But they bleed differently,
They dont bleed like the living,
Life doesn’t drain along with their blood,
The adrenaline doesn’t stop it’s flow,
They don’t fear the blood,
They celebrate when they see death,
Oozing out every drop cries to be separated,
The thickness,
The vigour,
The bravery,
The colossal machinery,
Who are they?
Just mortal men.
The best thing about writing is that you can be anyone you wish to be. You can play god with your words, make palaces where princes become Knights, where a man heroically saves the dying city with the strength of his thoughts, where anything and everything is possible. Such is the power of the pen. It can infuse you with thoughts buried deep inside some unknown corner of your self, hidden from you and from the world or can take you into a relaxing slumber of deep oceans and fairies and sweet. I take this wonderful opportunity given to me by the wonderful writer Nupur with gratitude to present some facts about me.
The rules:
Thank the person who nominated you.
Add A Picture To Your Post.
Share 7 Facts About Yourself.
Nominate others to do the award (Up To 15).
Include The Set Of Rules.
Inform Your Nominees.
Thank you once again for reading this post.
Here is my list of people that I have nominated. Do Check out their blogs, comment and like. Appreciation always brings the best in us.
There always will be a better body, a glowing face, something exciting, some one very new. We tend to be attracted to something different because everytime we see something new our hearts notches up the pace a little. It’s all a part of the evolutionary process. Our systems are designed to react to something unusual. But hey, have you ever realised what it would be like to not see the sun each day, not to feel the breeze fill up your shirts, not to hear that voice everyday. Respect what is there, hope for the better, enjoy what is forever……
I had planned a destination,
To a place,
Which had no address,
Took out my hat, put on some shoes,
Adjusted my view,
Step by step it had all started,
Home is near,
Was the only relaxation,
Days had passed,
Mountains had submerged,
I grew some wrinkles,
Step by step it had all started,
I had planned a destination,
To a place,
Which had no address,
I crossed many valleys,
Leaps of faith I had taken,
Some were Harsh,
The others had a great fall,
Broke some bones,
Tore down a muscle,
Mend, repair, perennial,
Rose again,
Stood up again,
The Sun shone after the starless nights,
Step by step it had all started,
I had planned a destination,
To a place,
Which had no address,
Then there were lands,
Greeny and kind,
Stay here,
Live here,
Home can be near,
I saw my bag,
Destination is nowhere near,
The mind wanted to stay,
Said this is a place for you my dear,
The heart said with a beat,
You left your home with a view so clear,
Reach the place where you will be louder,
This place is just a moment,
The place awaits you,
The path awaits you,
I took my bag,
Tightened my shoes,
Adjusted my view,
And here I go,
Step by step it had all started,
I had planned a destination,
To a place,
Which had no address,
The place came somehwere down the road,
It was beautiful in all sown,
I jumped with joy,
Kicked a rock,
Opened my bag,
And took out a board,
Declared the world it was someplace,
I had reached a place,
That was now known,
Hardwork, hard view, hard luck,
In the end they all contribute.
Beautiful was the word they said,
You were there all afraid,
I could see your eyes down with regret,
You had chased away a glorious dream,
Indulged in the thoughts damm so mean,
Jumped, drove and then a stumble,
Beautiful was the word they said,
You were there all afraid,
Your hands had a tremble far too seam,
You are my girl was the only synth,
You fought, you loved, had a scream,
But still it was them who won,
Wars and guns grow a crown,
Beautiful was the word they said,
You were there all afraid,
Ripped off your soul, standing all alone,
You skipped even a beat,
Justice should be served,
Bring the man who did it all,
Arms of justice were busy,
Carrying the man who was all hazy,
A wave of energy had struck,
Justice should be served,
The man was taken on a pedestal far too high,
Birds flew with a griny brigh,
The man had lifted her eyes,
A dream was about to die,
The crowd cheered, took a stone,
See there’s a bird who flew too high,
Justice should be served,
Was their only cry,
The Sun came above the sky,
The man was shinning like a golden cry,
A scene she couldn’t have seen,
She closed her eyes,
With hands that were his,
The pedestal was now empty,
The bird was now free,
Justice is served they said,
No birds should fly so high,
Wars and guns are forces of men,
The dreams that die a death of flight,
All the love that is lost in the democracies of might,
Preposterous it may seem,
The sky is so high,
The chains that bind every child,
The ideas that revolutionise,
Is there something wrong with being a wave,
A bird had flown far too high,
Shot down by a golden arrow,
Two dreams were buried that day,
Justice should be served,
They had all declared.
Winding my clock, you crossed my mind.
One has to be strong to wind the clock.
The coming hours seem heavy………
My mind is a sea of thoughts.
You are the storm that rumbles, crumbles and rattles my waves….
My table lamp is lit with the light that you had set burning inside me when you left.
My pen is filled with the ink you had spilled on the canvas that had me and you in it……..
Mostly I think about you. But sometimes yeah I do think about how would be life when there was no me, no you, just a little of you, a little of me and a whole of us.
It was never intentional.
We walked in the rain.
Danced to the rhythm.
We were two individuals.
Which one of us is left?
Do you find any difference?
It was never intentional……
When it was you there was no me. Now when there is no you there is no me….
Someone who understands our silence should be held onto forever because the things kept to oneself are the things that bother one the most….
Every saint has a past and every sinner a future…..
Caring for Art 