Forbidden Love...

Heart wants, what it can't have. And the Love being the most diligent emotion of it, always desires the one's that are Forbidden. Its the greatest irony of human nature, we love to receive the pain, leaving the brain and heart to take paradoxical stances. This one is dedicated to those who have loved what they can't have, who have suffered the hollowness of being alone & living without the hope of having their heart's desire :-

Love of you will only cause pain,

But the heart only desires the Forbidden Love;

The one who survives on the plinth of the hate,

Will only die a hasty death,

But hope being the plank in the sea,

Will keep on living the soulless life,

Keep my life, If it makes you bright,

Keep also the soul, as it means no more,

As the heart has died with the Forbidden Love;

Thinking about Love, always brings you to the another world. there is no special formula, about how u are going to express it, its as unique as your DNA. When people ask me what inspires me to write the romantic poems and quotes, I only can stare and smile, as its still mystery to me, and words come out on their own, in any language they want..

It makes me share this creation in Gujarati....

Prem aetle mari aankhon ma dekhati tari muskan, 
Prem aetle sapna man pan yaad aavtu taru naam, 
koie puchyu mane prem aetle chu?.... 
Mein kidha prem na be naam- hun ane tu...

Its the Roots..

Staying away from my home, my city, taught me what homeliness is. Nothing was realised when all these years I roamed around  the familiar roads of Ahmedabad, Saw same faces everyday passing a glance or a smile. These one and half year away from that, made me understand how  important  they were as a part of my life. Never before, I had felt the need to defend my city in midst of strangers. I thought, I have lost my heaven and it was indeed the best place to live. Suddenly I was surrounded by people who had same inclination for their birth place; a constructive regionalism. And today I am one of among those fraternity, who even after spending years in a foreign land still yell for their own city; and I have found a new familiarity and closeness in this strange land. My experience makes me write this poem :-

 

No Land is bad, no City is good;

Its only the people who never forget their roots,

Its my soil who yells out my name;

All those moments of sadness and fame,

Where I was first loved,

There only will my soul rest....

No Land is bad, no City is good;

Its only the people who never forget their roots............