Insano Ki Basti..

Insano ki basti main yeh kaisa shor sharaba hai
lutey huey kuch log kharey hain
katey pitey kuch jism parey hain
sanatey ki good main jaisey aah o fugan si barpa hai
insano ki basti main yeh kaisa shor sharaba hai
Kuch lashey chotey bachon kay
kuch siskian unki maoon ki
kuch shaanain chaand buzurgon ki
kuch azmatain dars gahon ki
Khoos o kaza ki mang main jaisey rang khiza ka dala hai
Insano ki basti main yeh kasia shor sharaba hai.

Akela Hun.

Bistar-e-Marg pay leta hun
Akela hun.
Subhe wisal say guzra hun
Akela hun.
Khawab daikhey they mainey pholon kay
Ajj sehra main betha hun
Akela hun.
Shab-e-Firaq ki umeed ki thi mainey bhi
Ab is zindan main betha hun
Akela hun.
Zindagi daud rahi hai subha shamo main
Main inko jhel raha hun
Akela hun.
Faqat Aik khawab zinda hai inhi tareeq rahon ka
kay jis bhi raah jana ho wahan bhi main
Akel hun.

I Died Ages Baack....

Once again there i was, writing what was supposed to be my will....cautious i was scared i had been....determined i was ...not to break the laws....law of breach ...laws of obedience....laws of luck and laws of forgiveness ....i took my quill and cut my self ...now bleeding i was in self defense. i was writing now ...soon i found that the words were fading although i was using no ink then why were they fading i didnt stop but kept writing ...thinking at the back of my mind that what ever i would write will fade away. i stopped for a moment to scratch my nose and found the blood trickling i looked up and saw my reflection in the mirror that shows only dreams ....i hesitated for a moment then stood up to check if i was still alive or sleeping or was i already dead ...because i could not see my own image in the mirror ...but a blurred face ...a face of a person dead and still alive....i saw a storm coming from the north ....in the mirror i saw thunder and lightning ...the pictures in the mirror kept changing ...it was like i i was watching a movie ...scenes kept changing ...a boy sitting alone in the rain .....a girl sitting under the tree.....my cell rang and i came back to my senses ..i looked at the clock it was half past two...which meant i should have died by now....i took the quill again and started writing ...what seemed to be my 20th line though non of the lines were visible any more but i still knew i have wrote enough to die in piece...i kept writing ...and after what seemed like several hours my cell rang again ...i took the call this time it was somebody asking for someone i didnt knew ..i said wrong number and put the phone down....and i forgot what i was doing...i thought hard about what i was doing but my memory ..i could not remember what i was doing... tired i felt i went to the bed and rested my head on the pillow ...and died after few moments....

Living this lie

another night and the dreams i cant find ...my fears turned to tears there is love by my side ...she tries to reassure me tells me she adores me ..and i wonder if she knows me or the boy that has died ...its been too many games too many lies and the logical world will just criticize my way as the days go slipping by its not easy living this lie..

Mushkil hai...

Kanch pay chalkey dekha humney..
kanch pay chalna mushkil hai..

paar utar kay dekha humnay
aag ka dariya mushkil hai..

sath nibhaney kay wadey to karna hai asan..
sath nibha kay humney dekha ..
sath nibhana mushkil hai..

daant dapat kay apney dil rokna hai asan ..
dil ki humney sun kay dekha ...
dil ki sunna mushkil hai..

Qufl lagey un darwazon ko todna hai asan..
dastak day kay humney dekha ..
dastak dena mushkil hai..

Some Other Day...!!!!!

I will Write something
but some other day..

i will learn something
but some other day..

i will go some where
some where far from everything..
everything i have ..everything i had..
but some other day..

i will teach some one ..
what i know ...what i saw..
what i got ...what i have been through
but some other day..

i will do something
to make them feel good..
make them feel happy..
make them feel proud..
but some other day..

i will fly some day..
to the clouds...
with the wind ...may be
i will feel lighter then ..
but some other day..

i will cut my self ..
and bleed till i am pure..
the pureness about which i am not sure..
but some other day..

I will fight some day
with everyone...
who pretends to be my friends..
but i know who they are ...
pretenders and only pretenders..
i will tell them what they make me feel
i will fight them
but some other day ...

i will search some day..
for what i need...
and what i want ..
but rite now ...i don't know
what i need and what i want ..
but i will search
what i need and what i want ..
but some other day..