Many  a times,
A door of imagination
Pretendingly kept open
To allure
To steal the emotional waves
captured...
Mocked and gained...
Wholesale
..
Unware
Be aware
...
Somebody is watching you...


.
.
.

Tu ab mat kar intezaar mila
Mein khud se dur chala gaya hu
Mumkin namumkin
Pankh mein khoya khoya chand
Bhul ja
Bhul ja
..
.

Dooriyaan ye
Manzil e khamoshiyan
Luka chhupi
Tham si gayi..
..


..

...
Phir ek awaaz aayi...
Mein khud ko rok na paya
...
Hasti ek takleefein..
Awaargi...

All sorrows don’t have the same weight.
And sometime its weight
is not related to the reason of the sorrow,
but on the person who endures it.
And there is always something worse
that could happen in everyone’s life.
Our sufferings may not be equal.
Our tears may not be of same hue.
But
a heart that hurts
must feel the same.
A mind that’s lost,
the whispers of blame
must feel the same.



When you don’t belong to earth
and the sky doesn’t want you
and you know not where to go.
Come to me.
I will hear you.
I will hear all you worries
that seem too childish to be spoken out.
I will hear the sound
of your deep breaths in the music of your sobs.
I will let you live your grief.
Grief to have lost.
Grief to have found .
Grief to simply exist.
Whatever it may be
and you don’t have to explain why it hurts.