In the reflection in the window of the bus I see him standing next to her He doesn't talk too much, he hardly even looks But you can see his smile and the color on his cheeks And you know his eyes want to look in her direction The way a flower turns to the sun. Such innocence Of having someone who makes you smile And wanting nothing from that person Except to see them smile back at you.
Posts
I was once less scared of who I used to be Maybe that is why I truly loved my teeth story It was a great conversation starter, and people enjoyed it When I told them about swings and messy childhood pictures. Also, it made me laugh when my dentist warned me That without braces I'll have problems with matrimony; Like that even made sense. But one day after a few years Those words began to echo in my ears And I stopped smiling for a while. I was once more scared of the person I used to be So I wanted to hide behind covers And smile without showing my teeth I wanted to be locked in my room And not have any people to meet. Now I'm back to enjoying my stick out teeth On most days they show the world That I'm as happy as can be I smile so hard that my teeth don't fit Its like when I smile The world knows that I mean I it.
ये पीली सी खामोशियाँ
ये पीली सी खामोशियाँ इन मे मैने कुछ लफ़्ज़ों को उड़ते हुए देखा है, दिल की बातों को जिन्हे ना वो कह सके ना हम इन्हे खामोशियों के गुब्बारो मे उड़ाने का सिलसिला ना जाने कब तक चलेगा | ये पीली सी खामोशियाँ जो तुम्हारे मेरे फ़ासले के बीच कुछ यून ही मासूम से बच्चे सी बैठी रहती है मेरे ख्वाबों की तस्वीरों में जो तुम्हारी साँसों से रंग भरती है | ये पीली सी खामोशियाँ जो दरबदार तुम्हारी परच्छाई में शब्दों के निशान तलाशती है की शायद तुम्हारे होंठ मुस्कुरा कर वो कह जाए जिसका आँखों को कबसे इंतज़ार है | इन खामोशियों में शोर ढूंड रही हूँ मैं मगर आज नही आज तुम यूँ ही मगरूर बैठे रहो अभी इन पीली सी खामोशियों के आसमान में मुझे कुछ चॅन तारे नज़र आने लगे है |
I opened your diary rather mistakenly (not) the other day But I had promised not to read the words, the sentences, and their combined meanings So I searched for you in the curves of your Fs and the hats of your T's; In the pages I saw your words fall on the bed of the lines Some days to the left, some days to the right, Some days just striving to stand straight; You changed everyday. But I found you in the circles you draw on the top of your Is The ones you draw the same way no matter which side your words fall, I saw your twisted smile in the Cs and your crazy laugh in the Ds They were all the same everyday, Maybe you don't change as much as you think you do. On the last page I found your attempt to write with your other hand The one that doesn't have years of practice And I laughed at how you thought it was fun To break 20 year old habits. I opened your diary yesterday, mistakenly, or so I'd like you to think And as promised, I didn't read your sentences But I wa...
All children deserve lessons from the swing, Each child deserves to be on the swing, To learn that if they try hard enough, they can hug the wind, And that they probably can't catch the stars but they can reach close enough, To get used to the ups and downs and the occasional hurtful falls, To learn when to stop before the tummy starts hurting and the head begins to spin. Each person deserves to be on the swing, So that when they go down from the topmost peak they learn that it is possible to fall without letting yourself get hurt, without hitting the ground.
When you say 'hello' to your diary after months, between the fluttering pages you will find a sheet of paper that will jump out to fall on your lap and if you want, then for a few seconds this page can be anything you would like it to be. It could be a torn sheet from the diary you burnt because it constantly reminded you of a heartbreak, but you saved that one entry anyway, you weren't ready to forget. It could be a song you wrote when you were in love or just inspirational quotes, a drawing of you made by your 4-year old cousin or just words, because you like collecting words. That page could be a love-letter, an angry ramble, a sketch, or notes from counselling psychology. For the 30 seconds before you decide to open it you have the power to fill that folded sheet of paper with all the words in the world.