हम ना समझें वो बातें बताएँ तो कैसे
तुम ना मानोगे, बातें बनाऍं तो कैसे

सुर्ख पर्दे में लिपटा है आईना दिल का
अपनी पलकों की चिलमन उठाऍं तो कैसे

तकमीलें-ख्वाब करने की उम्मीदें गोया
जब भी सोती है उनको जगाएँ तो कैसे

इक नज़ाकत से खोला था तूफ़ाँ से पहले
हम जिगर का दरीचा भुलाऍं तो कैसे

बेरुख़ी गुल की तुम तो कभी सह न पाए
हम यें खामोश शिकवें सुनाएँ तो कैसे

And how!

I wander.
And wonder.
Wonder why I wander, and what is it that is lost.
I know the words.
But words it is not.
And though this sounds like I've read it before
I believe it not.
I believe me
when I say that the line is original, my very own.
And I laugh.
Laugh, my love,
at the good ol' joke: every new thing that you write is already in the dictionary.
And at the good ol' feeling: everything that emerged from you is your property.
I shouldn't?
Ah - the baby sleeps.
Be quiet, my self. It will claim its independence once it wakes up.It'll go away.
And then you'll know.
Know for sure.
owning. disowning. loss. gain.
wheatchaff!
And finally: I am free to act as if I have lost it, forever.