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ना चाहिए तेरी धुन, ना ही तेरी ग़ज़ल
मैं तो अपने ही मंच का गायक हूँ,
तेरी उम्मीदों पे नालायक सही
मैं तो अपनी नज़रो में लायक हूँ।

Paralyzed Heart

There inside top left
Beats my tender heart
It cries, demands, insists
To break free from me
I too being juvenile
Exchanged it for love
The love that plays with it
Ruining all emotions of it
I found it all alone one day
Barren and broken all
I stitch and stitch the pieces
Getting it back to life.

Again it wants to be free
Wants to leave me
Again I exchange it
Exchange it with love
Again it's broken
Again I stitched it back
The cycle goes on
The wounds go on
Remains the scar
Remains the pain.

Then one day comes
It stops demanding
Nothing remains in it
Paralyzed all within
It lives because it breathe
It lives because it lose
Lost to varying love
Lost to varying demands.


Emotionless heart is like a desert
It should be wet by emotions,
So cry your heart out alone
And smile at large in public;
You will feel yourself
You will rescue yourself,
When every monsoon of tears
Will follow summer of pain.

The Story Of Flesh

Barren of love, Barren of emotions
I don't remember when I was alive
When I last got a warming hug
When someone called me by name
Every night a vulture feeds on me
On my alive body but dead soul
It touches me, It hurts me
Do whatever he wants to do
I just lay down cursing none
As the four walls witness all
That how to satisfy my hunger
I forced myself to satisfy theirs.


A wound was always there
There to voice what it feels
To tell how much it hurts
To show how much it pains
But the world ignores it all
Leaving it to die in rejection
To get buried in itself
To pay for raising it's voice up.

तू और तेरा इश्क़

दुनियादारी ने जहाँ हमें तहज़ीब सीखा दिया
वही तेरे इश्क़ में हमने उनको ही भुला दिया,
रोज़िन्दा कशमकश के फागुन से निकाल के
हमें तूने तेरी यादों की बयाबान में ज़ाहिद बना दिया;
अभी अभी तो कुछ लफ्ज़ हिंदी के सीखे थे
की तूने शायर बनाकर हमें उर्दू भी सीखा दिया,
तब भी तुझसे मेरी मुस्कान बर्दाश्त ना हुई की
की अपने यादों की रंगों से मुझे मुसव्विर बना दिया।


There's always a difference between love and dream
Dream is always perfect
But love,
Love is always imperfect.

My life, My poem

Every poem written by me
Is like a single word,
When placed together
They make sentence of my life.

# The attached photo is not author's work

Happy Woman's Day

Never invented,
Never discovered
Yet to be explored;
Much has been written,
Much will be written
Word 'Woman' stands tall.

Happy Woman's Day to all my lovely woman around. Thanks for being there.


When there are many things to worry about
Worry about yourself first,
Life is too short
Live it before you leave it.

# The attachment is not author's work


Many moments come across a poet,
But he only writes that stays with him,
In which he lives within.


Every childhood crush is first true love;
Without any intent,

© Singh Vikas