Main ya meri tishnagi...

Chaar panney, ik kitaab. kuchh siyahi, kuchh sharaab...

Kalam ne bola kalaam....aur, utaare kuchh naqaab...

kaun hai zyada zaeef, main ya meri tishnagi......

ya ki ye afsurda raat, ya ki ye sookha ghulaab...

meri hasrat ke sirhaane, khat mein hai qismat meri...

hain waqa-t mujh mein nahi main padh sakoon uska jawaab....

shaam meri khidkiyon pe gaa ke guzraa ik faqeer.....

daaney daaney pe likha hai khaane waale ka hisaab....

Main toh bas jaltaa gayaa, jab aandhiyon ne dee hawaaa....

mat karo sajda mera yun... hans ke bola aaftaab.....

Adab-e-mehfil woh sikhaata hai mujhe aankhon se yun..

jyon kabhi usne sikhaayi badmijaazi behisaab.....

Ya shifa ya maut ho, par intehaa ho marz ki...

ab nahi ho intezaar- e - zeest, na neendein kharaab.... 

Its not love that captures...

Let me turn you into music....or poetry if I may...

Let me turn to art, this perfect disarray....

let me own a piece of you...and yet not ever have to ask..

and seize that fleeting moment, when you and I unmask...

Caught in time, yet timeless, in a stroke of brush or ink...

let me entrap desire, and keep it from the brink..

and yet never flinch a tad...nor heave a chagrined sigh....

not even confront again, the skies that heard us cry...

Love suffers and endures, love also changes form...

Love seldom does demand...but often questions norm..

If love it was, then it shall be, more love to let you be....

For its not love that captures, but that which sets you free.....