And i sat with Ghalib..

Ishq mujhko nahin, vehshat hi sahi; meri vehshat teri shohrat hi sahee…!

It’s not always an unpleasant emotion to be unknown of the fact if “One is being loved or not by the person it loves”. However there remains a complaint with the beloved.

But this whinge is rather a sweet one like a rasagulla which also has that wild fragrance of gulaab and magic of this spongy emotion generating a sugary syrup as you pass the same through your lips.

That day while I was sitting in that rickety bus rolling down from the hill;

A smile kept me stretching my lips from ear to ear,

By whatever means a connection had established between her and myself;

So what if she considers my affection as a mere trap of a moment and nothing else,

Honestly even I hadn’t had, a slightest idea of the pureness of my fondness for her;

Some insanity was ruling me from inside and drawing a desperate attempt of getting attracted towards this lady

Now the hefty noises of transport; a little brawl that happened with traffic police over dupattas hung at the window panes of bus by passengers for anti-sun; and that good for nothing yet too expensive ‘on the way coffee’ was leaving a sweet and lovable sort of memory.

It is impossible not to keep myself being remembered of that outmoded Sher-e-punjab restaurant in the midst of scrambled market of lakkad bazar. And that magnificient glimpse of her face & fingers together, brought Ghalib singing his nazmein within and through my arteries and veins.

A stare was maintained until returned; may be conversations were flowing without the medium of sound.

So it happened what was recited;

umr harchand ke hai barq-e-Khiraam, dil ke Khoon karne ki fursat hi sahee..!

We saw each other not just for a moment but for moments,

Even if the contact was established resembling a strike of lightning; it was a whole set of galaxy which revolved around the hearts.

Within those moments existed the longest romantic era,

I expressed she consented, although she wasn’t that shy as I expected.

Her expressions were sound enough to ask me a set of hundred questions;

May be it was a pre-requisition to design an entrance of affection.

The waiters served the orders, cleaned the tables, people going in & out. With that the spark on her face started to turn cold & dim, for she was unable to seek answers of her interrogations.

So again I recited;

ham koee tarq-e-wafa karte haiN; na sahee ishq, museebat hee sahee…!

Well I had no intention to make my affection a religion for her and if it was to be kept for a debate, a discussion or any dialogue; I preferred keeping the same as a dilemma.

Atmosphere amongst those two tables kept across were now tensed yet drenched in love. Even though she wasn’t convinced with my untold answers, she was still bound by the gaze of my eyes.

By this time the girl sitting by her side noticed this unconventional situation and interrupted our symphony. They whispered in each other’s ears and concluded with some agreements.

Meanwhile I noticed she wasn’t sitting by herself but with twelve more of her family members, may be she was also reminded of this fact;

she stole herself from me and tried focusing on her dine.

Yet she had a smile, the one almost similar to mine

Senses were scented by those dilemmas beautifully resented

Still the conversation did happen without words and even without expression

By this hour, the family paid for the dinner and it was time for us to detach.

While she approached the exit, I escorted her with my sight. Our eyes met for the final moment, she made a gesture by her hand on her heart, smile at her lips and affection in her eyes. She walked off, as I finally murmured with Mia Ghalib again-

yaar se cheda chalee jaay, ‘Asad’; gar nahee wasl to hasrat hee sahee..!

The teasing and talking with the beloved shall end never. If union doesn’t happen, the desire for it remains; may it be!