Barsat ki Ek raat dil ne dimag se pucha,  jo Badal raha wo 'waqt' hai?  
  waqt to Aaj bhi waisa he hai  bachpan me jaisa hota tha wohi savera wahi sham Or baki cheeje tamam
Par tab naa bhigne se lagta tha darr  or  naa sardi jukam,
or wo pani ki shrarate tamam
Jinki Yaad bhar se aa jati hai hothon pe muskan  
par ab aisa kya hua jivan ki iss Dagar me
kahan bhatak gaya in jhuthe rit riwazo me
Kaise jivan ke Arth badalte gaye
Kyo ek funny poem likhne wale
Emotional likhne pe majboor ** gaye

Hawa k jharoko se kashti hilti gayi
waqt k sath mein tau badlta gaya
aur yeh zindagi chalti rahi

pal pal nayi hasratein
har pal naye khwab bunti gayi
aur yeh zindagi chalti gayi

raah mein manzar tau bahut aaye
bulate rahe mujhe mere saaye
mein tau ek pal ko ruk sa gaya
par yeh zindagi chalti gayi

yaadon k saaye mein zinda *** abhi
lagta hai tham sa gay *** mein kahin
par zindagi bewafa sanam si nikli
mein tau ruka reh gaya aur yeh chalti gayi

jindagi har pal apne arth badalti rahi
ham hanste rahe chahhe rote rahe
par woh apni rafataar se bas behati rahi
kabhi ban ke sawal ,kabhi ban ke utar
woh  hame har mod per milti rahi
ham tutate rahe, bikharate rahe
 fir khud hi gir ke sambhalte rahe
aur jindagi yun hi jalti bhujhati rahi

gum mile kuch is tarah ki gum hi gum na lage
khushiyuon  ki baat bhi hame gum ban ke milti rahi
kya kare kisi se shikva, kya kare kisi se shikayat
apne hi jab todate rahe......
toh saans meri har pal ghutati rahi
bas jindagi yuh hi chalti rahi
har pal apne arth badalati rahi

Oh, Prue she has a patient man,
  And Joan a gentle lover,
And Agatha’s Arth’ is a hug-the-hearth,—
  But my true love’s a rover!

Mig, her man’s as good as cheese
  And honest as a briar,
Sue tells her love what he’s thinking of,—
  But my dear lad’s a liar!

Oh, Sue and Prue and Agatha
  Are thick with Mig and Joan!
They bite their threads and shake their heads
  And gnaw my name like a bone;

And Prue says, “Mine’s a patient man,
  As never snaps me up,”

And Agatha, “Arth’ is a hug-the-hearth,
  Could live content in a cup,”

Sue’s man’s mind is like good jell—
  All one color, and clear—
And Mig’s no call to think at all
  What’s to come next year,

While Joan makes boast of a gentle lad,
  That’s troubled with that and this;—
But they all would give the life they live
  For a look from the man I kiss!

Cold he slants his eyes about,
  And few enough’s his choice,—
Though he’d slip me clean for a nun, or a queen,
  Or a beggar with knots in her voice,—

And Agatha will turn awake
  While her good man sleeps sound,
And Mig and Sue and Joan and Prue
  Will hear the clock strike round,

For Prue she has a patient man,
  As asks not when or why,

And Mig and Sue have naught to do
  But peep who’s passing by,

Joan is paired with a putterer
  That bastes and tastes and salts,
And Agatha’s Arth’ is a hug-the-hearth,—
  But my true love is false!