I'm going to hold just a little longer before I let it go.
Until I'm sure you feel the same way.
I need to keep myself safe, so till I know you feel for me, I won't give in. I'll fight it as long as I can.

But then those parts and divisions in your soul shouldn't have existed
You should've creamed those with a whisk and piped it with your favourite icing
Let it cool down and let others feed on it to their hearts content.
Because that's what people do when they see their favourite cake.

Armaan agar note bhi na
Toh urrjaate pankh laga ke
Yahan halwa itni tez hai hasraton ki

Sometimes there's this silent lover that lives inside you. It makes you feel aches of unrequited love. It makes you feel joys of having a soulmate.

Sometimes soulmates live in you. They aren't a different person.

Sometimes you are your own soulmate.
And sometimes you are your own lover.
You break your heart and repair it. You write love letters in your head and quote song lyrics.

Sometimes you are the only person you need.

Lafzon ka her pher hai zindagi
Do lafz idher joray toh jhoot
Ek lafz  udher se hataya toh sach   

Khala aur duaa

Agar Khalaa na hoti aasmano kay baad
Toh kya duaaen tab bhi utna hi waqt leti?

may 2nd 2010

Her tears burn the black of the night, resembling the darkness filled in her. Darkness of her past, of her life, of her existence. Whom was she to trust, whom was she to tell, the story of  pessimism. A tale that defines her, makes her and breaks her. This was one thing she wanted to scream out aloud for an answer, why her? What had she ever done to deserve this, what grave mistake did she dare commit that, for which the punishment was so cruel, so very dark.

Who would want to be sold off by her husband, on their wedding the night, the man who vowed to keep her and comfort her, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, till death drew them apart?

The only man a girl trusts her life with after her father, a man who’d protect her and shield her from the eyes of every other man, who’d feed her and nurse her when she’s sick. Who’d give her all of him and in return she’d be his.

Instead, You’re sitting on you’re bridal bed, wearing a heavy red outfit and loaded with gold, heart bursting with blessings, love and fear. 

Sound of distant footsteps, shuffling of the kurta, and the flower garland.

The bed got a bit lower, someone came and sat beside her. Her husband, That one being who;d love and protect her.

Sound of distant footsteps again.

First; muffled voices.

Now; “ Yeh larki ab tumhara “Maal” hai, tum nibto, rakhna hai rakho, warna raat ke baad, sarak pe phenk dena”

And then the man, who was suppose to the pillar of her dreams and her house, the foundation of her love, sold her off and vanished. Shattered the dreams even before they started to being dreamt, ran a bulldozer over the foundation, cement still wet.