ना उसकी याद रही,
ना उसका ज़िक्र अब ज़ुबान पर आता है।
अब नसीम-ए-सबा में, आती कोई मेहक नहीं,
अब इन मुर्दा नज़रों में, बची कोई तस्वीर नहीं।
अब तो इस खाली दिमाग़ में,
बची है तो कोई याद नहीं।
वाह! क्या खूब झूठ लिखा है,
अरे इतना सोचा उसके बारे में कि लिखना पड़ा,
पर बात दिलासा की थी,
बस इसलिए उसे भूली किताब लिखना पड़ा।
-
Author:
Tanishk S Rathore (
Offline) - Published: November 3rd, 2026 00:12
- Comment from author about the poem: English Translation Title: The Lie No memory of her remained, Nor does her name come to my tongue anymore. Now in the breeze of the west, there is no scent left, Now in these dead eyes, no image remains. Now in this hollow mind, If anything remains, it is no memory of her. Ah! What a fine lie I have written, I thought so much about her that I had to write it down, But it was for the sake of comfort alone, That is why I wrote a book of forgotten things.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 1
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.