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  • musaafir 49w



  • musaafir 68w


    Aazaar - Illness, Torment, Pain, sufferings

    PC - @dguttenfelder via Instagram

    After several milliliters of
    Whiskey down my gut
    I again start dreaming.
    No, it's not ordinary.
    It's been long since
    I dreamt again.

    I dreamt, exactly
    Two years four months
    And seven days
    After she left.
    I wonder now,
    I would have dreamt
    More frequently with her.

    But now, I've started to dream.
    I dreamt of my grandmother
    Without her torn shroud
    And her desperate voice
    Crying run in Punjabi
    To her two sons.
    If everyone would be as
    Benevolent as mothers are,
    This world would be a better place.
    Of course.

    I dreamt of my grandfather
    The village chieftain
    The sword of justice.
    I dreamt him
    Without his fallen turban
    And torn gut.
    I dreamt him
    As a man of pride and honour.

    I dreamt of my father and mother
    And their sense
    Of unrequited love
    Love that is poetry.
    But too plain
    To write in verse.
    I dreamt of them
    In a home
    They had long cherished for.

    I dreamt of my brothers
    And sisters
    Who wanted to be cricketers
    And doctors
    And creators of
    Countries with people
    Full of joy.
    My brothers and sisters
    Decreasing in number
    To malaria, marijuana
    And malicious air
    That our religions
    Give out.
    They died.
    We all will meet our fate soon.

    And dawn in about to arrive
    And so is our justice,
    My love.
    And in these dying moments
    I dreamt of
    Everything we were.
    And everything that we could be.

  • musaafir 154w


    इक़रार में बेइज़हारी का सबब मीठा है दोस्तों
    वो पास है फिर भी पास नहीं,
    एहसास है फिर भी एहसास नहीं ।

  • musaafir 156w


    आज मैं अपने दूजे घर की छत पर बैठा हूँ । ये घर कुछ सुकून देता है , ज़िन्दगी के शिकवों को भुलाने में मदद देता है, सोई हुई किस्मत को आज़मा जाता है, खोयी हुई आग को फिरसे जगा जाता है । ये मेरा घर है, ये सातवें आसमान पर है, यहां नफरत का कोई निशाँ नहीं है, धर्म की कोई दुकान नहीं हैं। इस घर में कोई खिड़की नहीं है।
    हवा आती है, और अपने साथ एक नया उजाला लाती है ।

  • musaafir 156w


    तमन्ना ना गुलों की करता हूँ
    ना बहारों की करता हूँ ,
    ना म्हकशों की करता हूँ
    ना रहबरों की करता हूँ
    इक आरज़ू बस बाकी है
    आरज़ू इक आवाज़ की ,
    आरज़ू इक साज़ की ,
    जो एक तूफ़ान लाए ,
    और सब कुछ वहीँ पर रुक जाए ।