बूँद-बूँद बर्सू मैं पानी-पानी खेलूँ खेलूँ और बह जाऊं

Are clouds allowed to settle into the sun?
is rain allowed to curl up
against warm rays in the evening sky?
will rains be rains
if they aren't a messenger anymore?
will the earth miss sieges
yearned for?

In the eye of a yellow storm
in an afternoon canvas,
is rain allowed to un-spill?
To un-pour, un-cascade,
un-fall?

लब तेरे यूँ खुले जैसे हर्फ थे
होंठ पर यूँ घुले जैसे बर्फ थे

Is fire allowed to be consumed by soft snow?
are flames allowed to find a home
in the heart of winters,
nestled along heartlines of ice,
cosy, never cold,
will red still be red
if it is painted over by peace,
orange still orange
if the sun sets on stubborn fears?
In the embrace of gentle snow,
is fire allowed to un-burn?
To settle down in comfortable ashes,
to un-spark, un-engulf, un-destroy.

मैं आसमान, तू मेरी ज़मीं