आरज़ू थी पर हिमत से मजबूर थे,
अल्फ़ाज़ मुह की देहलीज पर डेरा लगा कर बैठे थे|
दिल उकसा बी रहा था और रॉक भी रहा था,
कुछ अजीब सा सिल्सला पैदा हो रहा था|
न इधर से चूँ, न उधर से चूँ,
थी तो बस ख़ामोशी और दिल की बढ़ती धडकने|
दिल बेचैनी से मजबूर था,
पूछना ज़रूर था|
तो हमने भी एक कोशिश कर ही ली,
और आपने भी हमारे दिल की बात समझ ही ली||
Some nights, are just not right. They carry a bad vibe with them. But, moreover they carry helplessness. There’s just too much, and you cannot figure things out. I am not one of those people, who have been living with it for ages. I prefer to sort out. But, some things are better left untouched. But, some things should be mended and some thrown away. I don’t know. So, many ‘buts’ and various perspectives – screw things up. They play highly with a writer’s head. Because he/she is someone who has to present a collection of perspectives to the world.
Gently reclining my back on the ground,
I took a quick look around.
The insects were bumbling,
and the birds were sleeping.
The wind touched my hair,
and a pair of eyes began to stare.
My presence woke him up,
and he asked me what’s up?
I narrated my day’s chronicle,
and he said that it was phenomenal.
He was dressed up in wine,
and was ready to dine.
He wore a sophisticated scent,
and spoke in a powerful accent.
while maintaining their charts,
tend to forget about art.
They do not like roaming on the streets,
but they like staying high on the tweets.
Slashing our upper storeys,
with sarcastically formulated words.
Feeding on our insecurities,
like ravenously hungry beasts.
Hauling us down,
to snip off our shanks.
Shutting our mouths,
and striving to slit our throats.
Between hating our guts,
and destroying their own time,
they end up nowhere.
A sugary mouth, isn’t the key to a peaceful lifestyle.Whereas, the kindness of the heart, can help a lot in unlocking the door.
Questions. It’s all a matter of questions.
Right quires, at awkward times,