Khamosiyaan....

Khusbo’n Ki Tarha Meri Har Saans Mein Pyar Apna Basane Ka Waada Karo Rang Jitne Tumhari Mohabbat Ke Hai Mere Dil Mein Sajane Ka Waada Karo Hai Tumhari Wafaon Pe Mujhko Yaqeen Phir Bhi Dil Chata Hai Mere Dil Nasheen Yunhi Meri Tasalli Ki Khatir Zara Mujhko Apna Banane Ka Waada Karo Jab Mohabbat Ka Iqrar Karte Ho Tum Dharkano Mein Naya Rang Bharte Ho Tum Barha Kar Chuke Ho Magar Aaj Phir Mujhko Apna Banane Ka Waada Karo Sirf Lafzon Se Iqraar Hota Nahin Ik Janib Se Hi Pyar Hota Hai Mai Tumhe Yaad Rakhne Ki Khaun Kasam Tum Mujhko Na Bhulne Ka Waada Karo…..............

Dedicated To You soya....... the long-missing piece of my life's curious puzzle, the voice that whispers softly in my dreams, the music that echoes and dances in my mind, the living poem that speaks to my inner soul, the other part of my being that makes me whole. I searched for you everywhere... on lonely windswept beaches in the first light of dawn when solitude screamed loudly in my ears, on crowded city streets in the press of haste and hurry when everyone but me had somewhere else to go, in a church's quietude where love and peace abide and prayer is sometimes answered I sought your face. I searched inside my heart, in the emptiness of oneness, where the meaning of fulfillment was not clearly defined, and the purpose of my life remained a question to be answered, longing only for acceptance and the simple joy of sharing, I tried to find the patience to wait for you forever, though I didn't know your face or the color of your eyes. ...

You are smoke in the absence of flame, wildflower in a tux, whose morning glory face is a contradiction painted with a brush of mushroom stems. No artist, I eat the quill asking it to paint a clearer picture of you inside my head, but instead you hijack my mind and write on it with graffiti fingers that are your lost-boy thoughts. You tell me there are stars on the wall because you put them there in a dream, a reminder that the things we think grow from seeds if we don't destroy them with our weedkiller beliefs which insist on telling us stars belong up there in the sky. I think the stars were framed, you say. I think we all are and the frame is just another cage. You were sad that night, huddled down inside my soul, a little boy with a teddy-skeleton clutched to the illusion of your flat male chest that had grown a woman's breasts, for which I humb...