Abide by the love of literature
Stays somewhere,
little ashes of thoughts,
dawning in the middle
of some stray stars,
alone but surrounded,
by meaningless bushes
of burdens.
A walking thought,
starts running,
on some unknown roads.
irritated, hopelessly,
trying to escape,
from all the realities,
that caused enough.
A howling truth,
begins to kill,
every breathe in the flesh.
like an enemy,
of its own.
Hope, a myth,
breaking and germinating again,
and at last,
betrays us all,
a life stays with hope,
and dies, in hope.
वो जो इश्क़ में महसूस होती थी,
है कहीं जो जल रही है,
महसूस होती है ।।
अपनी अदालत में खड़ी होकर,
अपनी सजा की गुहार लगाती,
एक तड़प की तपिश भी,
महसूस होती है ।।
मैं के पत्थर तो नहीं शायद,
फूल का महज़ काँटा ही सही,
अपनी ही दिल में अपनी चुभन,
महसूस होती है ।।
रंगों बदन में मंझ रहा हूँ,
फिर भी दर्द से आहत हूँ,
वो एक टूटने का ग़म भी,
महसूस होती है ।।
फिर हम चलेंगे अंगारों पर कैसे,
इन रातों के अंधियारे में,
वो हर तरफ़ की आबोहवा,
जला रही है रात दिन,
महसूस होती है ।।
रिस रहा हूँ हर पहर,
अपने पाने की चाह में,
भिंग के जो तर हो जाऊँगा,
फिर बह चलूँगा राह में,
ये सोचता तो हूँ मगर,
हर सुबह भी रात सी,
महसूस होती है, क्या करूँ ?
©nawaab
Few words of unexpressed thoughts,
Keeps burning, deep inside the hearts,
from the realms of vast expressed lands,
to the sky of lantern stars in the nights.
It fights with people, who never cared,
with attire and gestures of unwillingness,
When it breaks out, it keeps mum.
It sobs with loud voices in silent souls,
with the starvation of living somewhere,
it resides within two black pages, thine.
Few drops of unattended thoughts,
travel all the way from the clouds of imaginations,
not entertaining, but pertaining to something within,
falls on dry hearts.
It’s an amalgamation of a life,
creating a covered, preserved and promising way of dealing,
with pain and strains of lives.
It regenerates lives,
boosting energies of dead cells,
and the tradition of sorrows and happiness.
It opens up the eyes, closed with
died thoughts of the unreal world.
It feels, within a life, the chord of life
and the cure to undied deaths.
Let it wash,
the old memories,
the hurts and pain,
to blossom again,
in the rain of love.
A me in me,
dying alone,
let it soak,
the mud again,
make me alive,
alive again,
O’, rain of love.
A thought,
to understand,
the life,
it’s importance,
it’s nurture,
making most out of it,
getting best out of it.
Let it live, in literal sense,
Measuring,
it’s caliber,
it’s capacity,
it’s capabilities,
it’s wonders,
it’s dangers.
Life, it’s creation,
it’s does and it’s don’t,
It’s necessities,
it’s requites,
It’s purpose,
a goal.
It’s fractions,
satisfactions,
Values it should add,
Values it should not,
Peace, it’s mechanism.
The inner selves,
the outer selves,
It’s pain,
it’s griefs,
It’s love,
it’s hates.
the things,
to achieve,
Before it ends.
