Thank God,my name isn’t in the list of thosewho died or werekilled yesterday!
May this night come wearing drunk cloak of love, carrying passionate desires, and intoxication of love! Tonight, may I get so drunk in love that I do not see any dreams!
The dream too thinks twice, gets filtered to go softto be seated on children’s eyes.
Light jumping out of window is staring the dark from afar.
Still enveloped in a blanket of dreams he (life) continued to lie still, pretended as if he was in a deep slumber.
I salute my desires with a bow.were it not for them to come and playmind would be empty just like me.
I am gazing– desires unaware of destiny frisk about my mindscape like children.
Desires stay unaware of man’s fragile existence authored by scarcity
Haunted trees covered behind the curtains of their own leaves stare at the dark from the fringe of streets.
Life’s mystery continued to trouble meA question came to my mind, is freedom dearer than life? or does it become easier to live when life becomes difficult?
Silence is the best language to speak in when you have lots of things to say.
Having been ripped open and drained by the crowd When I enter my home, Many homes seem to be waiting for me to give a shape to this life which is about to perish.
Without asking anybody’s advice I turned myself insane sitting under the same sun and the same clouds.
Should I ask everyone the question that should not have been asked? Or should I turning up to the sky be answering the question that’s not been asked?
In this atmosphere Where you have to go perennially crazy only to survive, Which auspicious moment should I choose to become mad?
Let us be honest we have praised Angulimala, will make no difference If you convey my salute to Amrapali.
These heads sheltered by umbrellas be they of Zeb-un-Nisa, or Catherine of Cleopatra or Fenichka live with their own stories
In how many minds should I go crazy? Whom should I ask?
When this flood blocks the road I am worried more by my soil getting washed, than by getting late to reach my destination.
I like desires like childrenand their playsthat tease me now and then intoknowing life.
I exist no more, every moment a new being lives inside me.
I want the fever to grab me forever and want you to be my fever.
Every morningI wake up with the newsof bloodshed.I feel my body,desperate to know whetherI’m still alive.
Why say then Buddha never carried gun? he didn’t play piano, we do not know of him making pictures either.