I am so tired that I can fall asleep when you caress my head in your lap
and then, its the only hope that takes me through these sleepless lonely nights.
When the winds blow in the mountains, they create a music with the river and leaves of deodar, oaks and pines. A man never thinks of poetry, but observes it, feels it. The words do not exist then, only music. The soul of the mountains one cannot capture in pages. I have only tried to write about the music, and a little more from elsewhere. Mountains send the winds to other places too.
I am so tired that I can fall asleep when you caress my head in your lap
and then, its the only hope that takes me through these sleepless lonely nights.
After a long period of numbness
I wake up to cold
feeling more numb.
I think again
if I feel, then why numb?
Numb, I fly
into the clouds.
After a long period of numbness,
I fly.
sankiri hoti sadak ko stabdh takta raha main
guzarte waqt ki garam hawa talwon mein mitti bharti rahi
roj ki tarah aaj bhi gande pair liye ghar lauta.