Love Is That Ocean
In Which If You Drown,
You Won''t Call For Help
Because
It''s The Suicide
That
You Have Committed
To Begin Another
Beautiful Life ... (:
Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.
Wafa ruswa nahe krna,
Suno aisa nahe krna,
Main pehlay he akela hon,
Mujhe tanha nahe krna,
Bohat massrrof ho jana,
Tou socha nahe krna,
Bharosa bi zaroori hy,
Magr sab ka nahe krna,
Muqadar phir muqadar hy,
Kabi daawa nahe krna,
Jo likha hy wo hona hy,
Kabhi shikwa nahe krna,
Meri takmeel tm se hy,
Mujhe aadha nahe krna,
Haqiqat hy milan apna,
Isay sapna nahe krna,
Humain tm yaad rehty ho,
Humain bhoola nahe krna
khud ko mujh se juda kia us ne, jo na krna tha wo kia us ne, yad krne se b na yad aon, esa muj ko bhula dia us ne, tum to bas waqt ki zarurat ho, muj ko akhir bata dia us ne, apne hathon se khud he likh mujhe, jane kyun phir mitadya us ne.
