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.