The color

If the color of anger
is red as they say,
What color is the disappointment
That gives anger way?

If peace is coloured white -
As I have learned -
In what color will appear the longing 
Of those who have for peace yearned?

If death is indeed 
Clothed in stark black,
What is the tint of the emptiness,
That it always leaves back?

If really happiness is,
Bright as the rainbows we see;
What then is the color of injustice,
Against those who may never be happy.

If I stand not with those 
Who color what I feel?
Would it be wrong if I want
Not to be colored but to heal?

हमारा किस्सा

किसी कहानीकार की किताबों में,
कभी हमारा भी एक हिस्सा होगा।
कभी हम भी किरदार बनेंगे,
हमारा भी एक किस्सा होगा।

कभी हमारी भी हसरतों पर
लिखेगा कोई दास्तां।
कभी हमारा किस्सा भी,
शौक से पढ़ेगा ये जहां।

हमारी भी कहानी कभी
किसी की हिम्मत जगाएगी।
अंधेरी राहों के उस पार है रौशनी 
ऐसा सबक बन जाएगी।

कभी पढ़कर हमारे बारे में,
कोई रोते हुए मुस्कुराएगा।
और किसी का अपनों से टूटा दिल,
शायद फिर मोहब्बत कर पाएगा।

सफ़र की मंज़िल चाहे हो कहीं,
अफसाना मज़ेदार बड़ा इसका होगा।
कभी हम भी किरदार बनेंगे,
हमारा भी एक किस्सा होगा।

The Prisoner of Solitude

In the lazy motion of time
Down a lone road long
A gentle breeze whispers, 
A solitude stretches on.

The world calls appealingly,
its glamour and glitz teasing.
But you fill your moments with the solitude
you've learned to find pleasing.

The reminiscence of happy times,
Grows distant each passing day.
Yet the end of the lengthy road
Is illuminated by no ray.

But worry not, O prisoner! 
One day there shall be no confines.
You too will have wings as Icarus's
And no fear of how bright the sun shines.

Sing in glee; 

Let the world see 

You were never so quiet as you seemed.
For the loudest are often those
That are voiceless deemed.