Love and last night (It was love part 2)

"Come here! We will find you a hotel" yelled the rickshaw drivers outside Hyderabad Airport as soon as they saw me. It was 10 pm, supposedly an unearthly hour for an Indian small town but the presence of these gentlemen in big numbers told the story of this town being ahead of many a metro we don’t look beyond.

I knew my destination but did not know the way to get there. All I could think about was the end i.e. meeting him after forever and maybe for the final time. Soon I bargained like a citizen of Telangana region and rattled all the names of landmarks and vicinities that R had sent in his email guiding me how to get to his hotel.

My heart was beating fast and my mind swung between why I had agreed on this trip which was completely insane and all the insecurities I had conducted for an abstract four letter emotion called love. I knew that right at this moment, he was away at dinner with the family of a girl he had chosen to be his life partner. Somehow I was devoid of even thinking how much I had longed to meet his family especially his mother who he compared with me day in and day out when we were together.

It didn’t matter anymore. I was soaked in his fears of not being accepted, of not getting what he seeks from the depths of his heart and of not finding a way out of a life he leads into a life he desires. I didn’t know how and I yet don’t know when the realisation had seeped in that I cannot be happy unless he is.

I was soaked in his fears of not being accepted, of not getting what he seeks from the depths of his heart and of not finding a way out of a he life he leads into a life he desires. I stopped the driver at a medical store, bought a deo and somehow found myself for the first time in life asking for a packet of condoms. It wasn’t as if I was readying myself for the big night of romping, when I had exactly 8 hours to spend with him apart from the to and fro from the airport

It was a sheer wish to be with him in every possible way this last time that made me pass a chasm of my self imposed taboo and lines that I had drawn throughout our relationship. All of it had past its validity date and reasons

I reached the hotel before he was back in his room and thus I was early by a good 30 minutes for him to end one of his most crucial evenings and for me to see him. The time passed under the gaze of a receptionist who saw me casually dressed and cherubic faced at one of the top business hotels of Asia. She was curious of course about the nature of my visit but couldn’t afford to ask.

Browsing through the pages of ‘Brothers Karamazov' and praying for everything to go well, I passed, minutes by repeatedly glancing at my watch and listening to songs on an ipod, which he had gifted me years back and which I hadn’t separated from myself even for a day.

Anxiety got better of me as I couldn’t even call him to check and risk putting him in a spot. Our meeting had turned clandestine and we were now in rendezvous of different sorts from our earlier affair. I walked out and decided to take a quick look at the hotel premises only to find myself seeing every car that came with the hope of his arrival.

After a while and when the car count reached about a dozen, he arrived with his future family. I was far but could make out that he was extremely happy with the force in his handshake with the girl's father and the vigour of his farewell wave of hands to say goodbye to the girl's brother.

Somehow I couldn’t see the one who was now supposed to play my part in his life. They left and I found myself impressed by his preparations to impress with a black dinner jacket and formal trousers et al. something very rare that he would reserve for do-or-die affairs.

I was glad he was giving his all to this relationship. I found myself surrounded by a strange contentment with this knowledge. He was proceeding fast towards lifelong happiness rather companionship from the looks of it. I was satisfied looking at him taking that leap, driving an extra mile without begrudging anything or maybe it was just the discovery of that peaceful space within me where I buried my restlessness and anxieties springing from not seeing him for a long time but wanting to do so all this while.

I was almost hidden by the plants standing as just an anonymous silhouette in the dark night. What I saw was his happily ever after without me in it. This made me more conscious of the awkwardness of the situation I was in.

I didn’t know for the first time what to say to him. I didn’t have to. He turned to me in spite of his future in laws being within the sight. He walked towards me with his million dollar smile while I was melting from within from the heat of various thoughts running in my head and a rush of blood to my heart having seen him finally and of course the hot June breeze of the Deccan plateau.

He embraced me tight and more than being glad that he did so, I wanted him to ensure that his future life partner wouldn’t see us. It would be really awful if any of his desires got ruined because of me or us. In a minute after the Reddy family had disappeared into countless patches of green surrounding the hotel, his grip hadn’t loosened and I found myself responding.

I clutched him right under the gaze of receptionist and the doorman who had been observing me for a while continuously trying to figure the story. I closed my eyes and did not want to open them ever again. This was my moment. This was my love and its last night

(To be continued in next part)

A lot happened over a coffee...

This is a graphic representation of an evening where one of my closest friends S was in war mode with F over the movie Jodhaa Akbar's review. I have tried to recreate the proceedings with my inputs as i was a silent spectator to the interesting scenes


Accompanying Snap: Scene 1: S decides that since we are criticising the movie, he would spend his time in a cafe with us designing a website for his workplace. Flared nostrils and arched eye brows tell the story of his disapproval on our accusations that the war action sequences in the movie were carefully lifted from Troy and were the best part about the movie. Much to his chagrin, the uncomfortable and awkward positioning along with swollen air filled cheeks help him stay quiet over his decision that movie was perfect and our unnecessary critical overview of the same was
an attempt to spoil his fun as he basked in radiance of satisfaction having feasted his eyes on some pretty costumed and otherwise sights of the film.



Accompanying Snap- Scene 2:
F decides to invoke more by sharing her expert views on how casting Aishwarya as the Rajput princess worked due to her waxed expressionless face, which is perceived as the proud augustine look and elegance when it is stiffness and inability to express in real. She is not unmotivated by the development of S retracting back into his shell even in our presence as she thinks continuing a bit more would force him to react and finally resurrect him for the evening



Accompanying Snap- Scene 3:
Its time for S to ponder deeply about his decision to keep shut when his dislike and need to stop this blasphemy far exceeds the results achieved by the so called dignified silent stand. He tries to look further engrossed in the website but his face says it all that he is searching for a repartee to shut us up while keeping it visibly separate from the topic of movie as he would like to appear to be considerate on everyone's free will





Accompanying Snap- Scene 4:
F seems content with the fact that S has already begun to think of breaking his self imposed spell of Silence. She is waiting for his shell to break open and for him to openly admit and say that he does not want us to discuss the movie. She looks at me meaningfully as if she wants to communicate her next move via telepathy. But as they say you can take an employee out of call centre but you cannot take call centre out of the employee, she went in for the cliche..



Accompanying Snap- Scene 5:

Knowing S's soft spot for technology and his geek-hearted existence, F decides to flaunt her collection of images, video and music stored carefully on a call centre employee's most crucial device i.e. Phone. Her expression is a mix of pride for this brilliant move and the resources to pull it off. She knows she is winning and somewhere down the line, movie and its review has gone for a toss and now it is about whether or not she can crack the da-S code.



Accompanying Snap - Scene 6:

S on the other hand is slightly amused looking at the extent of attention his small act of indifference can get him. Feeling good about the attempts F is making to win him over, he breaks out into a gradual sideways elevation of his lips and finally smiles as if just to say that okie, even if you did not like the movie and I would not like to hear about it, we remain together, its okay. He wastes no time and begins his favourite act of friendly sharing and caring i.e. bluetooth swap of data.

Finale:
The big dark cloud of melancholy has bursted and war a-la- jodhaa akbar is resolved without even a single dialogue.. only if Ashutosh Gowariker had witnessed this epic coffee session

, he would have casted them to play the loggerhead lovers on screen in reel life as they appear in real life. And if we decide to chronicle this evening nostalgically into a movie, the end credits would roll on the backdrop of F's glorious smile of contentment, friendship and victory. Although, we didnt begin this friendship fairy tale with once upon a time, i am tempted to leave it at ... and they lived happily ever after.

It was Love (part 1)

It was love. It didn’t seem like it on day one but yes it still was. This series is narrative of my most cherished relationship. Hope you like it

My phone rang at 2 am and I stretched my hands to pick it unwillingly, just to avoid the noise. As I answered the phone, the voice on other end said Hi love, Rohit here. It took me a whole minute to realise it was indeed him on the other side. All I could remember now was that we were in our off phone calls phase , which was a regular feature after our break up a few years back and that he was breaking the ice with this call.

He was in India. He sounded excited and I on the other hand was struggling to make sense out of my words and sound sane. I realized Hyderabad was not exactly the city where he would find friends to talk to at this hour and no one from Bangalore - his native town in India would speak about what he wanted to discuss. He was visiting to ask for hand of his lady love in marriage.

Last time we spoke, he was at his scared little school boy routine fearing the outcome of her family knowing he has one false eye, which only a few people in this world knew including me. It was a big deal when talking of marriage as though him being North Indian was not enough to put them off. I remember when he told me the first time about it lying in bed by my side, all i thought was It doesn't change you one bit for me. Why should my love for you change if you have one false eye? Well, I have a false tooth cap over my cavity on left side of my jaw. Don't punish yourself love by thinking it makes you any less than anyone.

But I guess I couldn't tell him now what I thought and I had to make do with some statements about him being more than his physical self and a properly functioning body, its the mind and the heart that matter equally. I geared up for my agony aunt type counselling session inspite of my sleepy state and told him that he need not worry as he was perfectly loveable. I told him that his actions bore testimony of what he had for her in his head and his heart.

There I was talking to my most cherished lover encouraging him to jump to the other side of fence because I knew what family and the girl meant to him. It's not like it didn't hurt me but I was immune by now. Being with him on our roller coaster relationship, I had to be stronger as the moment required it.

He proceeded to mention that it is the first time that he is putting all that he has on stake including his big ego. Traveling from US for a girl was something unthinkable when in his 3 year relationship with me he had visited Mumbai only twice for weekends, when we had been as close as heartbeats through that time. I knew it was difficult for him in the face of his friends boycotting him due to his expression of interest in a girl and his willingness to begin a traditional family after years of alternative lifestyle. They saw it as a criminally convenient route that most Indian gay men take.

None of them had any idea, how Rohit had always been the kind who learns from experience and trying to fulfill all his dreams was the only way to go for him. He never believed in gay relationships and was happy with just one night stands till we struck a chord. Now he was ready for the next change. They weren't. I was not sure if I was but knew it nonetheless that I would break his heart into million pieces if I stood along with the world holding him guilty for his pursuit of happiness.

What we spoke for rest of an hour is blurred in my memory but I remember we weren't ready to keep phones even after an hour of sharing updates on lives, what we dislike in ways we react to people, situations and moreover what we see right in each other's lives. Somehow our conversation wandered from him and me to us. We had not seen each other for many years now and needed healing from all the burns of our break up which hadn't yet been fully cured. Ever since we had ended up fighting on phone, chats and emails every time except this conversation tonight. He took a pause and said I miss you and hearing it made me melt within and jump at the same time and I replied I miss you too honey.

With our near choked voices, we were fumbling to express our desire of seeing each other just once and when we did, I thought that its silly to think of meeting him now and like this. Every time my inner voice said no to his insistence of my traveling to Hyderabad to meet him for the last time, I felt guilty for denying myself an opportunity i had been waiting for. In middle of his offer to pay for one side of airfare and my pleas of not being in any state to bunk work that morning, he suggested that I take the evening flight after work and offered to book tickets online right now.

I knew that now was the moment to end the call, I promised to try and see ticket availability and to inform him over email about the schedule since he was not carrying his US cellphone and leaving a message in his room would not be a great idea in his absence. After saying goodbye and cutting the phone, I asked myself if he deserves this and got a reply that I deserve to see my love after so many years.

I took the evening flight and landed in a city where I had never been. While I was trying to find his hotel that I had never seen on roads I did not know , I realised the reason for this quest. I knew once again that this is love.

(to be continued)

तपीश

सर्द सी धुप में तेरे जीसम की तपीश हो,
और हो साए आसमान के सरपरस्त,
दील में येक सुर गूंजें सुकून का
और खामोशी जुबान पे तराने से बीखेर जाये
पहलू में तेरे दीं डाले और वक्त हो तारों के जागने का
अंधेरों में महसूस हो तेरी छुअन के नर्म साए
आरजू यह खूबसूरत ख़्वाब है अब तक तो
क्या खबर कल हक़ीक़त बने गर तेरी भी ये हसरत हो

Nostalgic nights

Holding your hands and walking in the clouds,
my days were full of joy, so full of you.

Soaring in the sky with wings of your dreams,
My moments flew in vivid nights, our nights

Listening to your heartbeat, a rhythm so pure
I was touched by an angel, not fallen of course

Thinking of your ways and sweet smiles,
My blues just vanished as you filled my space, my horizons

As you open a new chapter of your heart each time,
I believe we met cos we were destined to

Treasuring togetherness, a boon of your presence,
My life seems now more complete, sculpted to perfection and blessed by him

एक और कारवां

साँसों के कारवाँ कुछ देर पहले गुज़र गए

साथ चल देता मैं भी लेकीन लम्हें आगे बढ़ गए

रफ़्तार वक़्त की थमती कभी है नहीं

तनहाइयों में भी हमें हुम्साये दीखते हर कहीँ

कुछ रवानगी कीस्मत की है और शायद मुकाद्दर है मेहरबान

दीदार यार का ही है देखता हूँ मैं जहाँ

2007 - a year of inspirations for bollywood

Mumbai is the city of dreams and dreamers. Please pardon my sweeping generalisation when i categorise all the dreamers in two categories i.e. those who follow cricket faithfully and those for whom movies are a religion.

Since last century Indian cinema's hub Mumbai has seen and witnessed quite a few milestones but this year has been quite a memorable one with creative juices flowing from the studios and production houses to outdo one another. The race here isn't necessarily with Hollywood but surely inspirations come from those quarters quite frequently.

2007 has seen many movies paying tribute to their inspirations and the inspired directors have come up aces with some memorable cinematic moments which are clearly their own creative self expression.. they have blended flavours, moods, sounds and more from their sources. For the lack of space and time I will just take you through just a few of such works.

The year started on a high note with arguably one of the best products from Mani Ratnam - Guru. The movie had hottest stars and was based upon life of most incredibly famous industrialist. If you think he was inspired by Abhi Ash chemistry or values that Dhirubhai Ambani followed, i would ask you to strain harder and think again. Guru was Mani Ratnam's reply to all his critics in his true hall mark way. He assembled many elements from his own movies and came up with this super product. He took the biopic structure of Nayakan, where in the lead protagonist just doesn't have a rags to riches story but great integrity, hardships and heroics to stand heads and shoulders above others. He took the Roja's angst ridden love-hate chemistry in early marriage parts of Abhishek and Aishwarya and turned it around to deep bond between the couple as in Bombay. Vidya Balan's chirpy wheelchair handicap was his favourite Anjali mixture of innocence and pain. The look of tere bina and the location reminded of Bombay's kehna hi kya & Mallika Sherawat's Maiyya Maiyya was a tribute to humma humma completely with red outfit et al. We can get into screenplay structure which he has devised by taking the reigns in his hands this time but i do not want to risk sounding like an over enthusiastic movie school graduate.

Coming soon are our other contenders- Anurag Basu, the director of Life in a Metro - an unusual tale of many intertwined lives in this cosmopolis, Sriram Raghavan, the director of Johny Gaddaar, a slick casino heist movie & last but not the least the director duo Abbas mastaan with their largely underrated brilliance in Naqaab- a film about reality cinema... I hope this posting inspired you to think a bit more about Indian cinema :)

ऐसा क्यों होता है

हर अनजानी दस्तक कुछ पहचानी सी लगती है
हर बात एक याद, हर मुलाक़ात कहानी सी लगती है
भूले से नाम, भूले से गम हैं
किसी भूले से दर्द से आँखें नम हैं
राहत नहीं किसी भी पनाह में
कुछ फ़र्क नहीं फर्ज या गुनाह में
दीनों के बोझ से बोझील कदम
और बेगानी डगर पे हमसफ़र हम
कभी तुम बद गए आगे
कहीं पीछे मुद ना सके हम
अधूरी दास्तानें मील जाती हैं अक्सर
बेखुद सी मुस्कानें खिल जाती हैं लैब पर

बस एक कशीश बस एक ख्लिश
एक कशमकश का आलम हैं
रास्ते कई हैं बदने को
साथ चलाने के लीये नज़र में हमनवा कम हैं

सवाल लीये फीर हर छूते दर का रुख करना चाहता है डील
खबर नहीं इससे जाने क्या होगा इस जीद से हासील

चेहरों की भीड़ है फीर भी जाने कीसकी तलाश है
शायद बीते लम्हों की वापसी चाहता हूँ या वक्त के पलट के आने की आस है

कुछ देर बस दम भर लूं
मन्ज़िल से नज़र हताके हर रास्ते का, हर हमनवा का शुक्रिया अदा कर लूं
सफ़र नहीं रुक सकता के कारवां आगे बढाना है
आनेवाले कल में ही गुज़रा ज़माना लॉट के आना है

यही चंद साँसे उधार की हैं
यही कुछ लम्हे उनके इंतज़ार की हैं
बस शाम ढलने को है
ख़्वाब मील्ने को हैं

ज़िंन्दगी का यही दस्तूर है
हर दील को मुकाम पाने के लिये ख़्वाब देखते रहना ज़रूर है

Average Joe and the Urban Life

Every impulse in my body screams for me to run away. It wants me to find shelter in peaceful existence far from this maddening experience of urban melancholy, loneliness and other hazards of living in this city. Shadows and showers have both dampened and darkened my hopes but I hold on.

There are times in life when the concrete roads under your feet do not count for solid foundation of life. It’s a reckoning to live simple and to shed the skin of the stress filled lifestyle of an average Mumbaikar. Aggravating at times and admirable at others, the two sides of the coin representing the metropolitan life are remarkably clear in this moment. I hear the inner voice long silenced for perks, a rented roof on my head and surviving this matrix. Dwelling on borders of depression and bankruptcy, the small game of running in circles can be exhausting. It might be a price far larger than anyone of us is willing to pay.

Our dreams have become limited to winning this chicken run when the picture has to be larger and all encompassing, a lifetime of peace and happiness, no matter what it constitutes. The traditional view of happiness as a big bank balance, a secure home and a family might seem achievable in this everyday chase for cheese. The question remains. Are we all compromising the limitless potential of human spirit by indulging in this rat race that seems inevitable?

Is there a way of living that would provide redemption from the mandatory urban sins of stepping on toes for survival? Does animalistic desperation to stock for harsher seasons and to find the prey for the day equate to basic potential of a human? Can life be more beautiful if we set ourselves and our minds free right here in this alabaster floored jungle? Does wake up and smell the coffee really mean that our senses should be used to the optimum over the daily struggles?

Will choosing to see beauty in our losses provide a sense of calmness that we seek at the winning post? Will working harder to really see everyone at workplace happy, rather than working in our mundane mechanical and sly ways release us from the weight of success and achievements? Will keeping our heads in laps of our mothers and letting them know that they mean the world to us cover up for the false praise of the gaudy Gucci gown a boss’s wife sported?

I would like to believe that it will. The learnings are few but precious. Rules of the game always applied but the spirit with which you play will determine, whether you survive or live a life no matter where you are

A marriage and a mirror

“Somebody pull the drapes” she thought. Her eyes were shut still in spite of the light hitting her directly through the big french windows she had got fixed earlier this week in her soon-to-be-ready dream home. After some inconsequential stirring in the bed and attempts to sleep with the sheets pulled over her head, Nisha had to give in and open her eyes when her phone rang to high notes of the latest pop track. It didn’t bother her that she was late for work but the first thought to hit her when she answered Rishi’s call was that he shouldn’t tell her about any more delays or problems in her wedding schedule. Her quick attempts to clear her throat and sound husky instead of groggy worked as Rishi was driving. The traffic noises rendered him deaf to her real state as he imagined his pretty bride to be in all her beauty and feminine glory on his way to see the new give aways suggested by the wedding planners.

Rishi spoke of many things not realizing how sticky and uncomfortable Nisha was feeling with the sweat as the air conditioner had given way to all the dust of renovation. To his ignorant bliss and to her discomfort it had refused to start up last night in Mumbai’s unbearable humidity. She heard patiently for a few minutes to his stories about his friends traveling from all over the globe and relatives who have excused themselves inspite of staying next doors. In some time, her restlessness began to show and now she had him on the speakerphone, trying to read the glossy parts of the newspaper.

When Rishi spoke of how beautiful she would look in her wedding outfit amidst the flowers, Nisha couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of him actually seeing her right now with hair messed up, sweat over her brows and legs folded on the dining table cluttered with everything under the sun. Rishi on the other end thought that her laughter was a sign of embarrassment and a confession of love but like most men he was too pre-occupied with his own thoughts to be able to guage hers. Then suddenly Nisha saw something and no longer thought it was rude to hang up on her beau to be.

‘Suneet Karnik’s wedding to be an exclusive affair’ read the headline and it went ahead to describe how the gliteratti of Mumbai would be spilt into two camps on this day and how it would be quite interesting to compare both the weddings, the grandest being hers and and small elite affair which was his. Obviously Rishi hadn’t seen this piece. He didn’t read much and usually it comforted Nisha when she shared with him what she felt about the characters from various novels, pieces of news and some random column she spotted. Today she was plain angry at his ignorance. She lit up a cigarette and began racing her mind on how she could make sure that in next seven days without disturbing the wedding schedule, she could take care of making her special day, extra special by beating her ex-boy friend Suneet in this petty game.

Her wedding cake was decided, clothes were ready, people were arriving, her boy friend was over the moon with her acceptance of this alliance but something was missing. Her thoughts were hazed. She felt her heart sinking and before she knew she was in comfortable embrace of the taste of a chocolate bar. Sinful and hazardous to the figure she wanted to be flaunted at her wedding, this indulgence was the least harm she could do under such dire circumstances. She got up after two bites of this bliss and messaged Rishi that she would call him after a long shower.

Her mind was racing as she scrubbed the behinds of her knee, according to her the most ignored part of human anatomy. She couldn’t help but wonder why Suneet would fix up his wedding on the same day as hers. Was it just to prove a point to her or did he know it too well that she would react to this? Was it a final resort that he had taken to get her to act on her love for him? Was he just trying to see if she still loves him and would she call? He of course knew, how she got angry at such things. He used to do little things to tease her.

She remembered a time when she asked him to buy her roses from a street urchin on a signal and he refused very wryly. She remained silent and burst out finally when he dropped her home and asked why she is so upset. After 5 minutes her doorbell had rung and she could see at least a 100 roses in hands of 4 street urchins sent by him with a card saying that she looked lovely angry, the blush of anger gave her skin a very lovely shade of pink. She remembered how she cursed him the whole day, called him in ecstasy and said I hate you before what she wanted to say now “ I love you Suneet”

She stepped out of shower and decided to call Rishi to get her thoughts off suneet. His voicemail replied and she felt sillier than ever knowing his habit of turning his phone off when he was in any meeting, be it as trivial as selection of give-aways for their wedding. She dialed her boss and excused herself off the day’s work by talking of her marriage. She knew that she could sketch the new spring summer collection sitting at home also only missing the vending machine cappuccino that she was so addicted to.

On her way to the kitchen, she came across the mirror and wondered if she would carry the delicate wedding dress without tripping on it while taking the mandatory seven pheras or circles around the fire of holy matrimony. Then she thought of how Isha, Suneet’s fiancé would look in her wedding dress, she hoped that Isha wouldn’t look better than her but wondered why she was even bothering to go there. While making her coffee, she dug further into the chocolate which had melt by now thanks to the failed air conditioner and the city heat.

She stared at the water boiling for the coffee and felt a bit weird as she felt the urge to put her favourite music on. Nisha didn’t even have to search for the dido cd. All she had to do is hit the play button to hear her croon the pain of her love.

After a while, the water for coffee was boiling in the vessel, music was still on and Nisha had crossed a chasm of knowing that she still loved suneet and Rishi was her alibi. She had weighed the reasons and securities that this marriage would give and the happiness walking out even at this moment would bring.

Hugging a pillow she left a sigh, tore her favourite photo of her and suneet together. She had torn her dreams and compromises both at that instant. She was to give up her dream home, bank balance and a chance to beat her ex boy friend with a grander wedding reception. The Music had died and she was waiting for Rishi to call and to tell him about the cancellation of wedding of a couple that never was…

Faith and a writer

Assaulted by multiple thoughts, I write every time. I am not left alone ever. It’s a pulsating feeling of restlessness. I am nothing but a burning desire to be what I am meant to be, a timeless immortal written word. I close in my mind’s eye and pledge to reach there not knowing how and not knowing when. Bracing the wings of my imagination with the harness of rationale, my pen moves. The ink flows slowly sometimes and rapidly at others. The words that form are as uneven as the pace but kaleidoscope and asymmetrical, not necessarily beautiful but true nonetheless as real as my journey inwards. Soon I am looking at reflection of my psyche, my world turned inside out.

Each word reflecting labour and pain of delivery haunts me, the creator besotted by his own creation. A feeling of admiration rises from within and am entranced for a while observing the lines on paper which ran through my head a while back as a signal of my nerves, channeled by life and blood. A small prayer moves to my lips and I thank my creator who I don’t know but I do hope would look at me as admirably as I look at these words.

Kaarwaan

Khayalon ka kaarvaan nahin rukta, badhta jaata hai par rokna chahta hoon waqt ko kahin us lamhein pe jab hum dobaara milein… chaahta hoon ki bhool jaaon aur zindagi tere ilaava bhi hai… chaahta hoon ki bas tujhe dekhne ki hi naukri ho…. Shayad dua maangna bhi isiliye jaari hai ki ussi ki aas hai… kisi din to who khush ho nemat mein tujhe baksh de… ghulaam ya uska banda.. yeh to khabar nahin, lekin ishq ki giraft mein bandgi bhi daulat nahin tujhe maangti hai