Finally

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I thank my stars that
I'm able to
String words in a way
That makes more sense
Than what it is
That forms a garland
Of affection to adorn
To hang around
The mirage of my dreams
Otherwise where else would I have put
All the heartache?

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Death bringing devastation in its wake
Snatching away life
With its bare, dark hands
Gripping at life's throat
And snuffing it out in a moment

It does not discriminate
It does not differentiate
It's not rage by itself
But accompanies it
Shrouding everything on its way

It lurks in a corner
Waiting for a time to strike
Hiding behind bushes
Then the bullet shoots off
Making "mistakes" on its way.

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कि क्या वक़्त के झूठे मरहम ने
अकेलेपन के घावों को भर दिया है?
क्या रात के काले धागे पे
खुद को पिरोना बंद किया?
क्या धड़कने अब भी बोझ लगती है
और उन खाली कमरों में
कोई नई जगह बनी?

एक ख़त लिख दो आज उसके नाम
और पूछो अपने दिल से
कि क्या बात बात पे टूटना बंद कर दिया?

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Random thinker

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Read the post in caption.

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Maybe endings are not
What they show us to be
Of dazzling sunsets and twinkling lights
All happy faces and joyful eyes

Some endings are frayed edges
Loose ends not tied together
The strands are left for another day
The threads are kept for another time.

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....

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Love was new
Love was kind
Love was young
But love was blind.

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Spring

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