Kayi baar ye socha hai maine

Kayi baar ye socha hai maine

Kis baat ka garv hai hindu ko

Gintee mein chaar wo zyaada hai

Isliye itnaa itraata hai

Masjid gira kar kisi ki

Jahaan Mandir usko banwaana hai

Kabhi socha hai usne ki

Kyaa Bhagwaan wahaan par aayega

Jis Mandir ko banwaane ko

Khoon bahe maasoomon k

Kayi baar ye socha hai maine

Kyun Musalmaan bagaawat ko

Imaan mein aane detaa hai

Kyun ginti ko itnaa khaas banaa

Haq ki jung mein jaa padtaa hai

Khudaa to quraabani hi ko

Bande ki ibaadat kehtaa hai

Fir kyaa wahaan padhi Namaaz mein

Khudaa barqat nawaazega

Jis masjid ko banwaane ko

Yateem huye masoom kayi

Kayi baar ye socha hai maine

Kyun wahaan nahi banaate hum

aisi imaarat jismein ki

Khudaa aur Bhagwaan dono hi rehne aayein

Prarthanaa hon Namaaz padhein

Na koi Hindu aur na hi koi Musalmaam kehlaaye

Insaan bus Insaan kehlaaye

Kayi baar ye socha hai maine

Kayi baar ye socha hai maine

i and Inner I…..

I am not the only one…..

Others too roam around with broken hearts!

I am not the first one……..

Many fight and emerge strong!

I am not the last one……

This sorrow shall engulf more!

I am not alone in the trap……

There are people chained in shackles of yore!

I didn’t do it to myself……..

People fall prey to their hearts!

I have a beautiful heart…..

But some hearts use others’ as darts!

I could feel it was love……

Does anyone know what is it like?

I know it was true……

What now is truth, to know you would dislike!

I cherished what we had……..

All that’s sweet is not your honey!

I always found the words so pure…….

My dear, there does exist something called hypocrisy!

I am a practical person…….

Who doesn’t love the ease?

I am not easy to fool….

Agree no one is foolproof either, please!

I feel hollow inside……

It is to start anew!

I won’t dream ever again………

Didn’t you stand again after falling and getting blue?

I am feeling some incredible pain…..

After all u are just a human!

I want to end my life….

You’re not so cruel as to kill a fresh hope that’s just begun!

I am not strong enough……

No one is born with it!

I never whined before…..

It happens; you still have a fresh slit!

I should move ahead…..

Regretting on past is worst thing to do!

I should not look back……

Move ahead, world has a lot of beauty to look to!

I feel lonely……

Keep going, people shall follow!

I am fine as I am…..

Times change, no ones’ destined for a lifetime of sorrow!

I am scared of being hopeful now….

Life is to live, not just to exist!

I won’t let this happen again to me…….

Remember, not good but bad is to resist!

I know I am sober and shall be…..

One should not change oneself for no good!

I believe in me…….

Its’ you who has, for yourself, always stood!

I see only I in my tomorrow…

And a few who care!

I will be ok someday…..

Say you’ll be fine from today, now and here!

I rule my life………

And you always Will!

I’ll win and overcome all the strife….

My wish’s with you, come on, Go for the Kill!

I’ll Write Again

There were days, when I would write,

All my feelings, of sorrow, joy or delight.

My pen was my best friend ever,

That filled me with credence and fervor.

Things I couldn’t share, things I couldn’t show,

When read in my rhythm, gave me a glow.

I was secretive yes I do concur,

But I felt snugged, that integrated my spurr.

Writing blew off, all my grudge,

And instilled a smug of not being a drudge.

My imagination flew up and high,

Was calmed, comforted and relieved of all the sigh.

But things have changed, far a lot,

Now its strange, but I hardly jot.

I have lost the patience, or the art,

Or perhaps the melody has flown off my heart.

In an attempt to theorize what happened,

Strange but true, love was found the delinquent.

Love of my life knows all that was hidden,

All my inaccessibles, to him lie open.

The lanes that could be in my poetries of yore,

Now are a bridge between me and my shore.

Good or bad, but I’m spared with no time,

To shape my feelings in the rhythmic line.

His presence has seeped in all my flashes,

So my pen and my diary have been long in my satchel.

But today when I talked to my soul,

It showed me the memoirs that took me to toll.

My pen, my diary, my vision of freedom,

Have hardly been stimulated any seldom.

This change wont last any more I assure,

I’ll pen my feelings again, as that makes me feel secure.

Being in love is a beauty I agree,

But it is not to change myself from me.

I am a person of diary and pages and ink,

I’ll make sure that my rhythm never again loses the link.