the good old time it was
a good looking face it was
not some such beauty flawless
nor some common looking lass

not that the galaxy revolved around her
but the journey felt so good around her

whatever the seasons be
a pleasant breeze she was
the shade in summers she was
the sunshine in winters she was

not far for long she used to be
nor along everyday she used to be
not so demanding in relationships
nor free with everyone she used to be

not such opulence
that humility dies away
nor such frankness
that the mirror shies…

things i want to say, i say them in my poetry
joys and sorrows, i have got it all in my poetry

the questions i ask myself, the answers i have in me
there is some answer i keep searching in my poetry

past has been written, no way to delete it now
on a wrist, the line that got etched is my poetry

what you deserve here and what you get here
nobody cares here, so carefree is my poetry

somewhere in me, a child still lives in me
a world of fairies and witches is my poetry

to come and to go, it is the nature of nature
a sliver of moon in dark nights is my poetry

the highs and the lows of life, whenever it is
ready for a trip to the mountains is my poetry

The cold winds kept on blowing the whole night
and the fireplace, it kept us warm the whole night

a few dried branches, I plucked them from the past
you also had some withered leaves of moments bygone
i emptied my pockets and found some dried off poems
you too opened up some parched faded letters of yours
with these eyes of mine, I drew out the many old thorns
and threw off the many stale lines from my hands
the moisture in eyes that had dried off, you dropped it
whatever we could find on our restless bodies the whole night
we chopped it off and threw…

taj might be the epitome of love for you
it might be the world to swear by for you

but my love, meet me somewhere else
all this splendour, what will a poor do with that
the path that bears the footprints of the riches
how can the souls dressed in love walk on that

my love, beneath this veiled advertisement of love
imprints of oppressed lives you should have seen
enchanted with tombs of dead kings and queens
the dimly lit homes of ours you should have seen

so many people in the world had been in love
who says…

दिल भी कितना बेबस है कि जैसे दिल में बसी है बेबसी
दिल को बस में खूब किया बस बस में ही नहीं ये बेबसी

ले आओ बोतल ले आओ गिलास वो यादों भरा लिबास
वही दिन और फिर वही रात ये बेबस आदतों की बेबसी

ये बाप का मुरझाता शरीर ये माँ की आहें दर्द भरीं
ज़िन्दगी को मौत की शह वक़्त के आगे रोती बेबसी

दाल में कंकड़ क्या मिला दोस्त की खाल में भेड़िया
आँसू भी अब पानी लगें शक भरी नज़रों की ये बेबसी

जो है उसमे चैन कहाँ कम पड़ गए ज़मीन-ओ-आसमाँ
रोटी से सस्ती है…

the reason for how i am, was just how it has been
squandering didn’t cost me anything, a life of squandering it has been

leaving from your room, i had just come to mine
someone has seen it, a talk of the town it has been

separated from you oh dear, was it just fun for me
it was that in your absence, a lot of drinking it has been

in the wait for you, and for the opulence in me
bad the condition was, made worse it has been

your pampered imposing eyes used to ask me
to please spend…