Toh kya

Bhari gullak ko farsh pe naa toda,

toh kya sanjoya,

masoom rango ne nayi diwaar ko naa goda,

toh kya dhoya.

Tere aanso ne kissi k rongte nai chede,

toh kya roya,

sudhaar na saka unko jo the fidrat se tede,

toh kya boya.

Subah uthne ke baad dubara nahi soya,

toh kya soya,

Barso ke ishq ko ek pal mein naa khoya,

toh kya khoya.

People

People,

pure, passionate, poised,

People,

pretentious, perverts, possessed.

Their hunger,

honest, hiked, horny.

Their needs,

natural, nasty, naughty.

Their intensions,

innocent, immoral, inapt.

Their relations,

rude, righteous, rough.

Their soul,

soothing, sceptic, stubborn.

Their believes,

begrimed, bold, bluffed.

Their sizes,

 stiff, small, stuffed.

People,

prized, prideful,  prudent,

People,

poor,  potent, perfectly imperfect.

Century of forwards between You and Me

Plethora of aesthetic emotions,

within someone's words,

and You reply, "Nice Read :)",

making them random forwards.

Neither adoration to His creation,

Nor any couplet from poetic soul,

No flattery, no filthy flirts,

But forwarding just peculiar forwards.

A fresh for morning and lazy one for night,

I spared hours for browsing them online,

Even sometimes, I bugged my friends,

"Please send some forwards just one last time."

Feelings became forwards, forwards became chats,

and heaps of flowing words blushing on my pad,

centuries of forwards, occupying my cell phone,

Will you be my lover for this century if not more?