wo chand chup gia mujhe raat sonp kar,
Aankhoon ko intezar k lamhat sonp kar,
Aik shaihas tha jo mujhy se bichar gia,
Aankhoon ko meri mosam barsaat sonp kar.
tum ko bhul jain bhi tu kaise.
tum ko satain bhi tu kaise.
tum tu wo khushbo ho jo meri sanson main basti hai.
khud ki sansoon ko tarpain bhi tu kaise.
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.
