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startled, I woke up from a nightmare,
and found his fingers caressing my hair.
he kissed my head and pulled me close,
and put me gently back to sleep.

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indifferent as she is.
to life, and to herself.
waiting for you,
to make her
unleash her passions.

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its innocence and its chastity.
It's been sinking deeper
under the guise of "modern love",
in quagmires of confused "lovers".
For us, love itself isn't love enough,
we are lovers born for lust.
It's an old school thing now.
The "modern love" things being
one night stands and casual datings.

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and mend them with my words.
Sometimes I need to give a hug,
tight enough to crush the bones,
warm enough to weld
the smithereened heart.

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to live,
before you die,
love madly.

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Of icecreams, and chocolates.
Of senses and sensualities.
Of rebellion and ensuing freedom.
We are mad for love
Of our lover.
Sometimes we are mad for love
Of someone else's lover,
because, love is love.
We are crazily in love.
Madly in admiration,
Of one thing or another.

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Dance?
Yes, please!

Thus, waltzed love.

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Vehicle running over a pup.

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मगर राह अभी बाकी है।
मर चुके हैं हम
पर सांस अभी बाकी है।
हिम्मत जुटा कर, फिर सफर पर निकलेंगे
क्यूंकि मंज़िल पाना अभी बाकी है।

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