मेरा यार

October 20, 2013 § 3 Comments

तुम्हारा ये आधा अधूरा इश्क

हमें समझ नहीं आता,

प्यास बुझी भी नहीं होती

और प्यासा है छोड़ जाता|

दिल में फूल खिलाते भी तुम हो

और फिर उन्हीं में काँटे लगाने वाले भी तुम हो,

अपनी बाहों में बिठा कर सहलाने वाले भी तुम हो

और फिर उन्हीं बाहों में किसी और के होने का बहाना देने वाले भी तुम हो|

हमें इतनी बातें समझ नहीं आती

हम तो बस एक ही बात जानते हैं,

जब दिल किसी को दे देते हैं

तो उसे ही उम्र भर अपना सब मानते हैं|

प्यार हुआ तो तुम्हें भी है

तुम्हारी आंखें हमें सब कह देती हैं,

होठों से चाहे खुल के इज़हार ना करो

हमारी आंखें तुम्हें पढ ही लेती हैं|

हमें ना इश्क में “मैं” को भूलने की बीमारी है

इस कदर कि कभी कभी तो अपने होने का एहसास भी तुम्हें छू  कर होता है,

और फिर जब तुम कहते हो कि मुझ पर अपना समय बरबाद मत करो

ऊपर से तो हम मुस्कुराते हैं पर दिल बहुत रोता है|

एक दिन आएगा जब तुम अपना प्यार खुद समझोगे

मेरे कहे बिना ही तुम्हें खुद से दीदार होगा,

उसी रोज़ के आने के इंतज़ार में ज़िंदा हूँ

कि कब मेरा यार मेरा यार होगा|


October 9, 2013 § 7 Comments

She kind of knows now as to how does she feel. Drained, is the word.

She feels as though something in her has died and is rotting every moment, making it unbearable to live under her own skin.

As though she isn’t her self anymore. She is whatever little he left of her; after taking most of her away, with him.
It’s not like he was asking for it. She gave him everything at her own accord. Gave him more when he stopped acknowledging all that she was giving. A little more when he stopped taking.

And she knows she’s done. Drained. Finished. She doesn’t have anything left for her own self. There is no way she could even think about giving out to someone else. Not for a very long time.
It’s not arrogance or rigidity. She’s been made like that.

And the void that surrounds her is accompanied by the constant sinking feeling. It came back. There is a huge boulder resting on her chest. The kind that makes it very tiresome for her to make a move: physically, emotionally, mentally.

It feels as though she’s sleepwalking. Not really feeling or thinking anything. There are moments when she sits down and cries for no reason, or her insides start to ache. She’s learning to deal with them, among other things.

She doesn’t know what does she feel about whatever’s happened, though. No idea.
She’s just in a constant battle within herself, not knowing who is she fighting against: him or her own self.
She wants to ask him. She can’t. She won’t.

Happiness and general well being have become far fetched destinations. Here, she’s struggling to maintain her sanity and get back some of her focus. She’s back to being raw and vulnerable and half dead. She’s back at building her Wall.

She knew from day zero that love is capable of destroying her. This much? She didn’t know!

All she sees when she closes her eyes is darkness. He took away the bright lights.


October 7, 2013 § 6 Comments

’twas the end of the world, as she knew it.

she was only glad that heartbreak’s are a silent affair.

she didn’t want to haunt his beautiful reality with her screams.


You, my love.

October 6, 2013 § 36 Comments

I’ll see you
in every sunset
that’s breathtaking;
or inside the
bubbles of soap
I blow.

I’ll find you
on the wing
of that parrot;
or at the
point where the
ocean is low.

I’ll meet you
at the place where
we first kissed;
somewhere on
the edges of
a rhyme.

I’ll love you
at the tip
of the hour
hand resting
on the backside
of time.

Where Am I?

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