Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers'' eyes. Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers'' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall and a preserving sweet
hamne apni sanso par unka naam likh liya,
nahi jante the ki hamne kuchh galat kiya,
wo pyaar ka vada hamse karke mukar gaye,
khair unki bewafai se kuchh to sabak liya......
