Kinaara...

बादलो के उस पार एक किनारा है...

धुंध को हटाकर मुझे वहा जाना है...

चमकती फिज़ा, लहराती हवा...

बेहतरीन नजराना है...

सुकून की ज़िन्दगी का आगाज़...

कोनो से झाकती ख़ुशी का एहसास...

ढलता हुआ सूरज जैसे मेरा पैमाना है...

हर घूँट की रौशनी में डूबते जहां का भी एक फ़साना है...

दिन ढल के रात में तब्दील हो जाए...

इसके पहले मुझे उस पार जाना है...

कल की कुछ और बात होगी...

बस आज ही की रात है जो मेरे साथ होगी...

आने वाला सवेरा अपने साथ क्या लायेगा...

दूर दिखते रास्ते को छुपा जाएगा...

धुंध को हटाकर मुझे वहा जाना है...

बादलो के उस पार, जहा एक किनारा है...

Masks...

How many masks do we bare to become ourselves?

When does a stranger transition to an acquaintance and before you know, becomes a dear one?

When do you know, it is alright to reveal your fears?

Is it actually right to ever reval your fears?

Why is it that I fall everytime I try to rise?

Is it my destiny to step back everytime I set my foot forward?

Will the "Real Me" ever get accepted by those around me?

How many wails of "Silence" do I have to bear before soothing words jingle my world?

Every night I unmask the stranger in front of me. The very next night, there's another one waiting for me.

When would this come to a stop or rather I should ask will it ever stop?

With every patch of mask that peels off, another one resurfaces...smiles at me...mocks at me...

"I will grow over their faces, I will never stop!!"

The creepers of anxiety are growing on my heart.

I need to survive, I need to make it through this path...

How much more of facade will I have to unmask...