Yeh aadhi raat ko churiaan si kya khanaktee hain?
Koi aata hai ya mairee hee zanjeerain chanakti hain?

They say that you can lose a won match just by letting down your guard for an instant.

Theres something about Urdu poetry that heightens feeling. Its like being on X. Emotion, be it love, hate, rage, delight or grief is magnified. Multiplied. Like looking through a kaleidoscope. The true beauty of words, as yet unappreciated by non-asian linguists is how a sea of passion can be summed up in one couplet. Something the more practical language of English can never hope to achieve.

Time to move on. Life is passing me by. So much to do. So much to achieve. so much to dream. As the Smirnoff ad goes, “Life is calling, where are you?” I know.

Why then do I want to hold on? To stay? To wait?

Na chhair ay nikhat-e-baad-e-bahari, rah chal apni
tujhe atkhailian sooji hain hum bezaar baithey hain


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