Notes - From the Nib of Heart

The world had too much to give and the heart had too much to contain.
Perhaps that’s why ancestors created poetry.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

To my Mom



Jane waale kabhi laut ke na aate hain
Bas ankhon ki nami ban ke reh jate hain
Itne door wo humse chale jate hain
hamare rone ki aawaz bhi na sun pate hain
Jane kyon wo humse door chale jate hain

Shayad wo ye nahi jaan pate hain
Wo hame kitna yaad aate hain
Har lamha unhe dil ke kareeb pate hain
Kitni hasrato se unhe paas bulate hain
Jane kyon wo humse door chale jate hain
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