Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kumari Shivangi Dec 2020
Mera pyaar bhi such me kamaal ka h
Pure din baat ** ya na **,
Lekin gn gm msg na aane par dard hota hai.

Mera pyaar bhi such me kamaal ka h
Bas subah ek ankh khol k wish krna
aur tere kehne p uth jati hu

Mera pyaar bhi such me kamaal ka h
Missing you , Love you
kehne se me apne dil k shabd naap leti hu
Pyaar jahir krti ni par fir bhi pyaar krti hu

Mera pyaar bhi such me kamaal ka h
Nahi babu thoda late ** gya
Sun ke man me gussa lekin
chehre pe sirf muskurahat hoti hai

Mera pyaar bhi such me kamaal ka h
Man daba Kar bhi tujhe sula deti hu
tujhe dard me kehrata dekh ni dekh pati hu
Vo sukoon ki neend tujhe ae uski dua krti hu

Mera pyaar bhi such me kamaal ka h
Gussa tera seh kr bhi tujhe manane m lagi rehti hu
aur khud gussa hone p shant bethi rehti hu
Jhagda hone p khtm hone aur tere mesg ane ka wait krti hu

Mera pyaar bhi such me kamaal ka h
Tera paas hone ka sukoon rehta h
aur vo shikayato ki lambi chaudi list bhi
tujhe dekhte he bhul jati hu

Mera pyaar bhi such me kamaal ka h
Pas na hone p bhi pas rehti hu
aur har cheez ka hisab rkhti hu
Baat na maanane p datati bhi hu

Mera pyaar bhi such me kamaal ka h
Teri wo smile dekhne k lie na jane kya kya krti hu
Aur agr kahi ruk jae to hath pakad leti hu
Dua me tera dard mang leti hu
teri salamati k lie hazaro darbar jaati hu
-KUMARI SHIVANGI
Roj wahi uthate he subah sabse pehle dimag m uska khyal aur nok jhok hone p 1 ghnate baad wapas aa jana... Dur hone p love you and missing you text s apni feeling bayaan karna aur uske pareshaan hone p mera pareshan ** jana... uska gussa chup s jhelna kyunki pata h ki baad m iske lie sorry bhi bol dete h aur uski ek hasi k lie hazaro pantia karna... Roj late hone p daantna aur thak jane p jabarjasti sula dena... Mera pyar bhi kamaal ka h... Na chah kr bhi beshumar h...
Sachin jeengar Dec 2017
Aao sathiyo Mai tumhe thoda sa vyapar sikha du
Machino ki is duniya Mai bikta Ye insan dikha du
Suraj se Brahmand tak fir Prithvi se Ye chand tak
Kahaniyo k Mai aj hazaro gulistan bicha dun
Aao sathiyo Mai....
Badal raha h waqt Ye Yaro badal rahi h duniya
Badalti is duniya Mai sambhalta Mai insan dikha du
Aao sathiyo Mai...
Hai daud yaha par paise ki paise ka mayajaal h
Hota ik pal Mai idhar udhar kaisa bedhangi kamal h
Kamaal ki is sajish ka Mai tumhe sartaaj bata du
Aao sathiyo Mai...
Tum dhund rahe the aj jise kal Mai kese mil jaega
Jo kho chuka vo ** chuka tu khud ko kese batlaega...
Mai batlata hu tumhe ab tum ko bhi Ye chaal sikha du
Aao sathiyo Mai...
Rohaniyat Feb 11
Jab pehli baar mile, hua aisa haal,
Mili aankhen, mile dil, mile khayal.

Kitna khaas ban gaya woh rishta,
Zindagi ko mili naye jeene ki misaal.

Badal gaye halat, badal gayi duniya,
Har mod pe milta raha ek kamaal.

Dil ki baat unse yunhi keh di,
Zubaan ko mila ek naya jamaal.

Ab raah-e-ishq mein hai bas unka saath,
Zindagi ban gayi ek haseen ghazal ka haal.

~ Rohaniyat
Har haal mein hum behaal rahe  
Gham-e-jaan se har dam ndhaal rahe  

Tumhari chahat ki rahguzar mein  
Kabhi khaak, kabhi paimaal rahe  

Na khwab bane, na taabeer mili  
Bas azaab hi azaab ke hamaal rahe  

Dhoop sehte guzargayi sadiyaan  
Shab-e-hijr ke hi sawaal rahe  

Mohabbat ke saahil bhi door the  
Aur dil ke toofaan be-zawaal rahe  

Shajar-e-umeed ka saaya na mila  
Hum faseel-e-gham ke kamaal rahe  

Jo charaagh jalaye the aarzu ke  
Wahi aandhiyon mein bemisaal rahe  

Rah-e-wafa mein the zakhm beshumaar  
Phir bhi hanste rahe, lajawab rahe  

Humne socha tha dil ka dard sunayein  
Magar lab pe qufl, aur sawaal rahe  

Har shaam ne tanhai ka zehar diya  
Har raat ke geet bhi malaal rahe
Fahad shah May 16
Last night I dreamt of my grandfather
Who died six months ago.
Passed away, people speak in my ear.
Yes, passed away. He passed away.
He passed away on one fine Saturday.

Two days ago, I wrote a poem.
A friend said, “Write one for him too.”
A eulogy?
My grandfather died six months ago.

He left a cane behind,
a torch
And diaries scrawled with debts:
Jamaal, 300.
Kamaal, 500.
Even our milkman who helped dig a grave.

Abu ji, dear Abu ji—We called.
Abu Ji died six months ago.
Passed away, they say. He passed away.
His friends say he passed away.
His sons say he passed away.
His wife—she says it too.
He passed away, they all say.

Last year, he gave me a shirt to wear
and a belt of fine yellow leather.
“This, I bought in the 60’s when I was young.
This, I bought when I was married.”
He talked of two dozen friends often,
a menudo, mi abuelo, Sus amigos.
I learned in Spanish.
A menudo: often,
Mi abuelo: My grandfather.
Sus amigos: His friends.
He spoke of his friends,
“My friends.”
Men, tall men in long boots and khaki uniforms,
who called him “Inspector,”, “Our dear inspector”
mis amigos y sus zapatos, I learned again.

Before he died, he asked
In a voice, strong, shrewd, and tired,
“Who won the election?”
“No one, for now.
Here, Congress had a rally today.
Yes, he… came to speak too.”
“A brave man,” he said.
“Yet…”

My grandfather died six months ago,
Suddenly. Of a heart attack.
I suppose.
I calmed his face by rubbing his chin,
He stared at me in a silent disbelief.
I took him to a hospital, my brother too,
“Check his pulse.”
“Is he breathing?”
“let’s turn back. There is no point.”

In the hospital, I was the brave one.
Even so, braver was my brother,
Quieter, shaken–he didn’t cry.
Nor did he in the ambulance,
Or at home.

Wrapped in a red blanket,
“Wait, did you tie his mouth?”
“Here. Take this bandage,
Tuck it beneath his chin.
What a fine beard.
What a fine man.
Are you the adult here?
Call your father”

“Father, come home. Abu Ji died.”
“Passed away,”. “He passed away.”
“Yes. He passed away.”
Brother, however younger, pats my shoulder,
“Do not cry. What shall we say?
What shall we ever say?”
“To whom?
“to mummy?”
We call our grandmother mummy.
“Yes, what shall we tell mummy?”
Abu Ji died. he died six months ago.
Passed away, she’d say. Passed away.

He died at noon. While eating.
He had only started.
A morsel of rice, dry in his white palm,
Mother screamed in disbelief,
I ran down, so did my brother
who had just come home.

“Why didn’t you come yesterday?
When I asked you to come yesterday,”
Abu Ji had said.
Then gave him all his keys
in an untimely hour.
“Quite lucky,” they said. “He gave you his keys before he died.”
Passed away, he says. He passed away.

Mother said, “Abu Ji called your name before he died.”
Passed away, she says. He passed away.
“He called your name before he passed away.”
I am shy about writing my name,
Too reserved to write my name.
If my name was Kamal, Abu Ji said,
“Kamal, come to me, I will die.”
If I was named Jamal, Abu Ji said,
“Jamal, come to me, I will die.”
Mother swears she heard it.
While Grandma was lost somewhere else.
“I heard him, he called your name.”
I do not believe it,
Not even six months later.


We came back in an ambulance
Received by 300 strange men
With 300 different hats
Men I only nodded to.
Men, who would visit my grandfather often.
“Pity, he was great.”
“Indeed. He was.”
“Oh, how every soul shall taste death”

Grandmother cried in disbelief,
“He did not die. Nor pass away.”
“Yes, you are right.”
“Yes, you are right.”

My grandfather died.
Six months ago.
I no longer cried; only felt sad.
Talk to people, I hear them say.
My great, great aunt and her great, great uncle
To their dismay
I thought of an old friend
who never calls.

My grandfather died,
Two months later, I met a friend
Where were you all this time?
She says, “I am sorry. Was he sick?”
I say, “It is all right. He was just old”
It is not all right.
“Do you miss him?” she asked again.
“I do not want to talk about it,” in disdain.
Not with her. Ever again.


My grandfather died,
Some say he called my name,
While others say he was a great man.
He left me an old ashtray,
his two diaries and a cane.
I do not want a key.
Or a shirt.
Or a belt from a forgotten age.

Last week, an old politician breathed his last,
This week, a city fell to a wildfire’s wrath.
Who is left to talk to anymore?
Last night I dreamt of him, saying that
wise old man is gone!
“Abu Ji, that city itself is ash and smoke too.”
What a pity.
My grandfather died.
Passed away; I remind myself.
Six months ago, he passed away.
Abu Ji, Dear Abu Ji.
To all grandfathers who make your lives better.
To all the best friends who always make you laugh.
Aryan Sam Nov 2018
jisda milna qismat wich nai hunda,
Soh lage
Ude naal mohabat kamaal di hundi a

— The End —