"laila" poems
Kis gunah ki saja tumne mujhe diya...?
Ban ke bewafa tumne pyaar ko badnam kyon kiya....?
Mila tumse mohabbat karne ka sila mujhe,
Jite ji tumne mujhe ye judai ka zahar kyon diya...?
Na karte pyar kabhi bhi tumse agar pta hota mujhe judai ka gam,
Karke mujhe akela, kahan chale gye wo bewafa sanam,
Kya duniya ki yahi reet hain...?
Pyar aur Judai me aksar kyon judai ka hi jeet hain....?
Kis janam ka badla sanam tumne mujhse liya...?
Karke ghayal dil ko, mujhe akela yu chhod diya,
Ab to ye duniya mujhe tane mar rahi,
Kabhi laila majnu to kabhi heer ranjha ki pyar ki kahaniya suna rahi,
Ja bewafa ja khush raho uske sath jise tumne apna bna liya,
Dard dekar mujhe jo mere dil ko
DARD -E- DIL bna diya,
DARD -E- DIL bna diya.....
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
6 months
23 different treatments
15 different medicines
nothing, nada, nope, no results.
The pain in my head
is not one I'd ever wish on anyone,
not even my worst enemy.
A migraine
every second
of
every day
even while sleeping
is something no one should endure
I dream about headaches... is that weird?
ouch. agh. ugh.
it's been 6 months, non-stop of people saying:
"time is the best medicine"
"don't lose hope"
"you're young, young minds heal fast."
but my favorite:
"Laila, I promise, you'll be better in a week"
Well doc, it's been 23 weeks, what's up?
honestly,
it's now a joking matter.
one of which I laugh with my friends about
I laugh at the fact that I don't remember 95% of the last 6 months
Not because I find it humorous
but because I've been given 23 different "Laila, I'm telling you this "insert treatment here" will work! It works for 99% of the people that do it."
I am the 1%
ha.
actually, I'm in the .25% of teens still experiencing concussion- related symptoms after 6 months of the hit.
Yay for minorities!
and now,
get this,
my treatment
after spending thousands on hyperbaric chambers, freaky boulderite "healing gods", gag-worthy chinese herbs
is yoga.
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 11:31 AM UTC
The slow dance with yourself, prom.
No partner in crime, no getaway.
Caught, red and white all I see.
The sirens of my heart, ringing.
No Heer, No Ranjha.
No Paris, No Helena.
No Laila, No Majnu.
No Romeo, No Juliet.
Ties and Dresses
Corsage and Coronary
Royal Red carpets
straight from the heart.
Epileptic lights
Face in a sea of masks
Empty hands and waiting eyes
Welcome to the Lonely Masquerade Ball.
Where no faces exist
home of the masks.
Where no hip is free
Siamese twins.
Only heart that beats alone.
Only open eyed one
Only closed lipped one
Soulless, Loveless.
Hordes, Masses, Groups.
Flurry of flamingos
Cackle of hyenas
Litter of rabbits, garbage.
The ugly duckling
Oscar Wilde
Stars on Earth
Rainbows in storms.
Missing posters, wanted.
Revolving doors, wait.
Get the getaway car
Go Go Go.
Jan 31, 2020
Jan 31, 2020 at 4:33 PM UTC
When the time comes,
You may look for Qais in the arms of Laila—
for it’s written- by him, in her name.
Never mind the voice that reasons nor the headlines that argue.
Never mind what the locals tell you.
When the time comes,
You may look for Qais in the arms of Laila.
For it’s written-
his soul rests where his quest ends.
where all of his quests end.
“La Illah, Laila.” (translates to: "no god, but one god")
Aug 8, 2021
Aug 8, 2021 at 12:07 PM UTC
*Our heart was
A crystal clear mirror
LOVE broke that
Into million fragments
Immortal LOVERS-
Romeo & Juliet
Heer & Ranjha
Laila & Majnun
Rose from that fragment
To enter our LOVE soul
They built the revolution
In our blood
Of LOVE, loving...
Beauty of this LOVE
Is only seen within eyes
Beauty of death
Is only seen in LOVE
Beauty of tears
Is only seen in
EPIC Romances
To bear all these experiences
Normal heart is not equipped
LOVE transforms the inner being
To treasure the experiences
Of living:
Two bodies in one soul
"Separated in time
United by Fate...!*
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
"Listen for the stream
that tells you one thing."
— Rumi.
How long can the perched Nightingale sing with a slit throat?
An iron taste in each bitter note; hard to swallow, —
Harder to quote!
And it rose because you entertained those thoughts too.
The honeydew rots beside that spill;
Need not these feathers remember the thrill?
Bitter with each taste, the beginnings! This deafening shrill
In false embrace, touching rapture's fiery red with a burning haste!
And it rose because solitude remembers everything I wrote.
The white faded under the scarlet smear of inky Sanskrit; I write about
You as if I'm a Dervish writing about their love walking along the sky; the brink
Of sunrise,— sunset!
And I'm never too far behind without wine.
Its the same I write of you every time!
And it rose because I can't touch a god the same as I can't touch you.
Upon seeing you with your own sweet Halvah,
I no longer prayed for Qais and Laila,
For they shared love, but never touched. Just like the Sufi poet and Allah,
Where one can only see, and one can only dream,
While floating along the stream.
And now I know I'm the fool for letting the feathers touch the wine,
Because it rose; those feathers rose too with time.
Because it rose, —
And rose,
And rose.
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 12:34 AM UTC
Quiet and peacefully she slept,
in my arms an angel felt safe
A new addition to add to my
name she's called Laila.
3:21 in the morning she came
while I waited in my sleep
To welcome her in my old
granddaddy like way.
When I first saw her beautiful
little gray eyes open up.
Laiala Aariel put a stamp
of love deeper into my heart.
Born at 7lbs. 6oz. she was
like a little feather of love
All I could do was to grin
Saying I'm a grandad again.
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 5:52 PM UTC
he woke up at the rise of the sun
heard calls a KKK member feared to be apart of
he inspected his surroundings
made sure no terrorist came along to attack him
performed his morning ablution
simple movements allowing the water to purify his truth
looked up to the sky and heard boom, BOOM
Laila where's Laila , he ran back home searching for the innocent life he opens to
smokey roads smelling like phosphorous and American hate
he speculates
says his prayer searches through blood baths
never looking back
the man who throw they attack throws his daughter in his face
says is this the terrorist you've been raising to be everyday
speculates
eyes filled with fire hating devil connecting lies
terrorist
that's what they called him
after loosing the only love he had
his hate became symbolic
terrorist
they lied to him and deceived him
made him believe this was all for his freedom
they treated him like an agent
although he deserved to be a victim
terrorist
he was just a man who believed in nothing but his faith
he had a family he was once ok
now he walks down the streets where once his family played
and celebrated religious holidays
he searches for what he believes is his enemy
grabs the hand of his worst friend and says
please lets stop the violence
lets pretend as if this wasn't a plan to serve the elite class
please i am only a man i am in grieve
please lets love each other lets not bleed
smacked in the face
exaggerated hate
die you terrorist there's no peace between you and me
-gz
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 1:28 PM UTC
Oh! that Laila such a spirited life and a very spirited soul.
Chasing joyfully behind "Bunny Hop" as he tries to reach
his little bunny hole.
Oh! granddaddy do you see the bunny running and playing?
I'm going to catch him, her little spirited voice kept on saying.
Oh! that Laila she's such a bundle of joy, "granddaddy" can be
expected to ring out at least a million times a day.
Because she knows that her granddaddy loves her and she loves me, and we wouldn't have it any other way.
We share such memories together like hanging out at "Hams Orchard" on many summer occasions.
Oh! that Laila melts my heart away while we partake in sharing
our peach ice cream with such an aspiration.
Oh! that Laila looks forward to what we call "Donut Saturdays"
and the only one donut that's covered in a pink glaze.
She knows that if she see's that one donut she and I will have another episode of memories that'll last for months and days.
Oh! that Laila
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 12:12 PM UTC
================================
While going you ask me, May I go
Now you tell me, What should I reply?
Seeing you going, I feel like the fire of
My own lamp is burning my home, I'm shocked.
Some may recite a sad song or play on flute
But now my own mind does not belong to body
As your spirit do not own your body, but
Wasting water on a withered plant in the backyard
Just think the loneliness of the deserted journey
No partner in another way in the hot sand of weeds
There is no noise, but it is very difficult for the bird to fly
That a sun can hide in the sun in the burning sky
Life is not the same when you see the mirror alone
The veil lifts and you go away with the fast breeze
and the flesh of young fruits prompt to the breast
Now you do not even support yourself to as water in palm
I know many stories and tales of Laila Majnoo, Heer Raanjha
But, when dude is in the aspect, so, where to find the moon
I wanted to swim with you in an ocean of unlimited abundance
Not swimming in swimming pool, what is kept in river or ponds
Have you thought anything about your better half before going
It seems as you have deprived me of my light, lamp and oil of life
Written by
~~~Jawahar Gupta~~~
Dec 17, 2017
Dec 17, 2017 at 3:56 PM UTC
In a world of pure evil
As you softly whispered goodbye
With a flicker you passed bye
A heart's gentle feast
Now stars in the night softly sigh.
Jan 26, 2025
Jan 26, 2025 at 5:35 AM UTC
LOVE TRUE
Difficult it is to say which is love true; incomplete or a union complete
Calmness, peace, romance are in a story, where lovers unite after they first meet.
Are endings really happy, after lovers choose their partner from a fleet?
Epics show true lovers are separated or have to, for some reason, retreat.
Sitaji joined Ram leaving behind luxuries; but why did Ram, her forsake n ill treat ?
Neither could Radha unite with Kanha; he went away for ever, (to Kans defeat).
Poor Meera, a princess turned a vagabond, in hope, to her Giridhar meet.
Umpteen examples Laila-Majnu, Heer-Ranjha, Shiri-Farhad couldn't unite or meet.
Can a sage wise enlighten me, which is LOVE true; an incomplete one or a union complete
Armin Dutia Motashaw
Dec 24, 2020
Dec 24, 2020 at 6:52 PM UTC
I understand the ritual between
Laila and I.
When she see me she cries as if
she's afraid of me.
In the beginning it broke my
heart because of who I am.
It's a ritual that shows me that
love can start with tears.
Patience is the key as the tears
in Laila eyes slowly fade.
Time allows me to sit, watch
and wait as joy find it's way.
The ritual teaches a lesson that
love isn't always so easy.
You may have to wait and let
the pieces fall in place.
In the end birds are singing
songs around Laila and I.
I understand how the ritual
goes because of who she is.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
In silent depths, my heart beats for you,
A love so strong, yet unspoken, true.
Every thought, a whispered promise made,
To give you happiness, in every shade.
When we first met, my soul took flight,
In that instant, you became my light.
Responsibilities and goals faded away,
As my heart surrendered, without a say.
You're my first priority, my guiding star,
The one I yearn to be with, near and far.
I dream of marriage, of love that's real,
Of giving you joy, and making your heart feel.
But alas, you don't see the love I hold,
The devotion that makes my heart unfold.
I know I'm not perfect, flawed and weak,
But my love for you is pure, unique.
Like Laila and Majnu, my love's a flame,
Burning bright, though often in pain.
A strong man, yet your indifference makes me fear,
Leaves me scared, and my heart does tear.
In your eyes, I see a distant shore,
A love that's not returned, I'm searching for more.
Still, I'll hold on to the love I feel,
And hope that someday, you'll see it's real.
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 2:45 AM UTC
The sun was going down
The sky was a blue except for a patch- a mutiny of red of orange,
Just above the setting sun.
Rushing to the terrace,
I settled in my spot,
The white swing, my book, and music on my phone.
Aah! Utopia it was.
The backdrop was perfect.
The sky like the dim reading lights
Not too bright, yet enough.
The sun could be just seen in between the mountains.
Before the romance with the words,
I danced around, feeling happiness coursing through my veins.
Then I lost myself within the pages, within the story of Mariam and Laila,
Unconcerned about everything around me.
Oh but this poem is not about a thousand splendid suns
It is about the moment which followed.
A darkness descended, so sudden, it took my breath away.
It was like someone had flicked the switch off.
I looked around, gaping at what had just happened
The sky wasn't black yet, it was blue,
Yet even dimmer.
I sat their awestruck for a few minutes.
And now I don't know why I am writing this.
But their was a sudden flutter of these lines in my mind,
A sudden urge to record these lines, a itch in my fingers to write this.
And now it just seems like a tree which will never bear fruit.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC