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Love
you may wonder why I write to you that often. May be I see the cosmos in that. May be I love you. May be I don't feel at my own self else where. But love even then you have not bothered to either contact me or say come to me or say send someone as a protocol way of happening to facilitate to come to you. Your dad and mom naturally may feel too uncomfortable at my looks and the like. Your mom is sure I am after your money. You see love , love is envy ed by every corner.
yei durian kesi
dherein'
dherein'
shayad
meiri tanha rahein'
kuch
kahati hei mujhei
you are a class apart
it whispers
heart of hearts
how it happens
asks my dummy brain
I sometimes
see you
others
at me
my self
I do not know whether its more tough to write or to love. If I am to evoke the investment factor of scientific forlorn then may be something can be understood. But apparently straightforward looking concept s are not an easy job to handle with. The basic reason being the complex nature of ground realities vs a vs monotony or conversely you can say happening moments. Well sciences are not far separated from spiritualism or say commitment factor on ethics . Well even then Love its not easy to understand what love stand for and who actually can afford love. I can only explain when I see the so called love of so called Islamic peoples or even Pakistan peoples I am not happy with their mind set ups as they have been befooled by the intellectuals and religion as well .
I remember I was one day reading some poems written by William Words Worth. You also must have read some of them may be not whole heartedly. Well may be you are half my age and a factor of approach perception might have factored into. I was subjected to highest possible filthiest thinkable what should I say intrusion of very late. May be you live with me that makes me a little livable.
I have often wondered
the bubbles of love
they refuse to budge
haughty nerves
desires too
may be
Ma ganga is pious for ever
but no body knows
she is a heart too
my heart often opines
you make dunes
bereft of even sands
I search hard
what it actually wants to say
I don't dare to ask
I make more
more and more
My heart often opines