The world today seems like a market-place, where you can sell anything
people, dreams, passions, thoughts, truth, justice ...everything could be sold

This mad market-place, couldn't sell me till now!

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When I first tasted that wine you brought along one evening, do you remember,
I told you it was bitter initially but I loved it after few sips...and asked for more.

even today, when I reflect upon our relationship, I am reminded of that wine...

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Why does Man often spend his time counting his wounds and sorrows..
deeming his life to be the vast sky and his sorrows..akin to the dark clouds in it

Indeed, after childhood, man stops counting stars, which shine in the same sky?

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Do people love themselves enough that they wait, seek and search for the love of another person?

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Last night I spoke to the moon... till wee hours... because you were not here...
You did the same too, for I know that this moon is the messenger between us...

This night, the moon thanked us both, for breathing life into it, with our words...

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Corpses, Corpses Corpses...there are corpses everywhere in this country
Neither a bomb nor a gun, not even a sword, was found on this blood-path

Someone said religion here is a path to see god! they all did..

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The night kissed the fading day, and whispered in its ear,
"I shall carry you,for a while, in the womb of my darkness"

The dew drops of the dawn are perhaps its tears of longing, for its mother..

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The longings of the sea turn into music when it splashes on the shore
the longings of my thoughts turn into words when I write a verse.

Alas! My verses don't have music... Alas! The sea doesn't have my words...