General

पी लिया है तेरे इश्क़ का ज़हर
नहीं दरकार मुझे दवा कोई

इतर सा बिखरा है फिज़ाओं में
छूकर आयी है तुझे हवा कोई

है बेचैनी सी सुबह से ही आज
हुए अरमान फिर जवां कोई

ये आँसूं मेरे अब बहते ही नहीं
कर सकता नहीं ग़म रवां कोई

बैठा है अमित तेरे इंतज़ार में
फिर दिखा अपना जलवा कोई 

In response to: Reena’s Exploration Challenge # 132

वक़्त की आँधी में कुछ नहीं टिकता
हमनें दरख्तों को उखड़ते देखा है

कौन ले जा सका है साथ जमीन
फिर भी भाइयों को लड़ते देखा है

क्या पकड़ सकता है मुट्ठी में अपनी
बच्चे को परछाई पकड़ते देखा है ?

उम्र भर अकड़ कर जिया था जो
उसे अपने बच्चों से डरते देखा है

वो बिन हमारे जीना सीख गया अमित
जिसे हमने खुद पे मरते देखा है

In response to: Reena’s Exploration Challenge # 133

Fame is a capricious mistress

anonymity a faithful spouse

most flirt with temptation

but die miserably in the arms of faithfulness.

Reena’s Exploration Challenge #133

Reena is the host of Reena’s Exploration Challenge

PROMPT #133

Use the phrase

outlasting the fickleness of fame….

…in your piece.

You can write about any celebrity or someone you admired, or how you would like to chalk out a dream life for yourself. You can be philosophical about the concept, and use it in an abstract manner. Examples from nature or mythology can also be taken.

~*~

Fame is a fickle mistress….

Don’t we all crave fame and recognition

In that secret cornerof our heart

We desire to be adulated and revered

For our great deeds, our matchless beauty

Or the extraordinary talent that we possess

But as they say, fame is a fickle mistress

It snares our soul and then abandonsit

Without notice, in a moment to flee to others

Who like us, welcomeitwith open arms

To outlast the fickleness of fame

We…

Reena’s Exploration Challenge #133

PROMPT #133

Use the phrase

outlasting the fickleness of fame….

The full moon peaked gently through the window wondering if the old man was awake. The old man responding to the moons warm glow stirred himself from bed slipping off the oxygen mask. He dressed and searched for the small bottle of brandy hidden under his socks in the dresser. Slipping the bottle into his pocket as he exited the room he shuffled down the corridor towards the main entrance. The night warden was snoring gently at his desk as the old man stole quietly past, exiting the nursing home by the front door. Breathing harshly he labored to complete the half mile to the field at the entrance to the woods and dropped exhausted to the ground propping his back against the trunk of a giant oak.

Away from the lights of the…