Khwaab dekho.
Khuli aankhon se ya band, fark nahin.

Khwaab humein kahan se kahan leja chhodti hai.
Jo kabhi dekha nahin woh dikha deti hai.
Jis cheez ko kabhi chhua na **, use bhi mehsoos karwa deti hai.

Kabhi paseene mein bheega jagaati hai,
toh kabhi apni ulfat se gaalon ko laal kar deti hai.

Cheekh kar uthaa hai koi toh koi muskuraate.

Koi toh khatam hone ka naam nahin leta.
Kisi ke beech mein kat jaane ka gila hai rehta.

Mujhe toh hamesha khatam hone ka intezaar hi raha ------ uske aane tak.
Bura dekha, bura jaana, bure ne ghere rakha ab tak.

Mein ne seene par sar rakha,
phir usne mere haath par apna bada magar narm haath rakha.

Usko meri nazuk lambi ungliyon se khelna achha laga.
Mujhe mohabbat jatane ka yeh tareeqa uska achha laga.

Aankh khuli.

Pehli dafa kaanp kar nahin sharmakar jagi.
Sukoon toh tha.
Par gila bhi raha.
Phir socha,
khwaab itne bhi bure nahin.

Toh khwaab dekho.
Kuch rehne do.
Kuch poore karo.

Dard bhi kya sikandar hai.
Is ko na kisi ki fikar, na dar hai.
Jab yeh aata hai toh sab bhula deta hai.
Jo fateh karle toh kya ummeed kya khwahish hai.
Bas dard hi dard hai.
Dard se bachna hai.

Khushiyaan aati hai toh kisi na kisi dar ke saath.
Chhin jaane ka dar,
Nazar lag jaane ka dar,
Zyaada khush ** liye toh phir baad mein rone ka dar.

Lekin dard ko kis cheez ka dar?
Jis ka dar tha jab wohi aakar hum se lipat jaaye,
toh phir kis baat ka dar?

Kitni ajeeb baat hai,
aur yeh kaisa mazedaar rishta hai dard aur khushiyon ka.
Khushiyaan dard ka veham lekar aati hai,
toh dard ki inteha ek dhundla sa daawa khushiyon ka.

Lagta toh har kisi ko yahi hai, ke ab is dard se azaadi na mumkin hai.
Magar dard hi toh azaadi hai.
Yeh khaathma nahin.
Yeh toh khaatme ki shakal mein shuruwaat hai
----- ek nayi khushi ki, ek nayi tumhari.

Quivering lip under my teeth,
wide eyed I stared into the blank.
It lured me a moment earlier
now it just disappeared.
So I peeked into my subconscious
unbounded by the passing time
Waiting to be struck by that perfect rhyme.

When I pronounce my fears
or when I shed silent tears?
When I float in my passion
or when I calaculate my every action?
When I naysay to unease
or when I offer my every piece?
When I dance like no one's there
or when I be conscious of my way?
When I'm that benevolent fighter
or when I'm the aloof spectator?
So tell me, when am I my better version?
When would you think of me as a better version?

but him.
The one,
sealed in whose lips my answers lies
with serenity filled cohl lined eyes
discerned by the devout sign
crowned with white araqchin
Loyalty his demeanor
Words so splendidly clear
clouds vanish my mind's under.