Because I had been searching.

"मैंने ढूंढा है, हाँ तुझको ; सारे जग में , सबमें , मुझमें 
पल-पल , दिन- दिन , हफ़्तों-हफ़्तों , सालों- सालों 
...................... सदियाँ -सदियाँ।  
 कोई खोया-सा बच्चा जैसे; हो ढूंढ रहा इस सागर में 
तत्पर-तत्पर , बेचैन- बेचैन ,बिस्मिल-बिस्मिल, बेकल- बेकल 
 ......................अपनी परियाँ।  "

Photograph: taken at Bangaram island, Lakshadweep, India
बिस्मिल - wounded
बेकल - distraught
तत्पर- ready, ripe

Winning or losing.

It was never about you winning or you losing. It was all about making you better.
And then, did you actually want it so easy?
Burn.
It was not about victory taking away all your darkness. It never can.
It was all about making you the light.
It was never about you winning or you losing.

Made of the same material.

Right at that moment I wanted to feel the sea. Know it complete. Touch all that was buried inside his heart. Difficult he was.

But believe me, it was like having found a friend who knows your melancholy, stirs it up, brings you face to face with your own turbulence. As if both of you were made up of the same material.

Its all water you see.
I wanted to cry in his blue arms. But I stood there smiling with wet eyes.
Its all water you see. 

How do I answer the questions cities put to me?

शहरों से शहरों के बीच, तू मिल जाता है मुझको
हर एक रास्ते पर
हरा या पीला या सतरंगा कोई पेड़ बनके
मैं गाड़ी की खिड़की से तकतीं हूँ ,
तेरी शाखों पर बंधे धागे
- धागों से वादे -
- वादों से नग़में -
- और नग़मों से गुनगुनाती  -
मिट्टी की ख़ुशबू
बारिश की थिरकन
पत्तों की कंपन
और आसमां का मुझपर आसरा।

फिर भी इन शहरों में लोग अक्सर मुझसे पूछा करतें हैं,
" तू है कहाँ ?"

How much can you absorb?

I have it all. Buried deep under my skin.
Too much. Too little.
- How much -
do you want ?

I have it all. Bubbling, burbling, murmuring
in the spaces of my mind
Too wide. Too narrow
- How much - 
can you hold?

I have it all. Foaming, spuming, sparkling 
in my soul
Too eternal. Too ephemeral
- How much -
can you absorb?

How much can you absorb?
With yours
Within yours?

Photograph clicked at: Kupwara, Jammu and Kashmir, India.

I will dance tonight.

The sun will rise.

over our own little planets.

The wind will erode you.

The rain will make you tremble.

Seasons and their cycles will dance upon us

- bubbling colours -

- curling syllables -

- spilling music -

that a stranger whispered in those ears 

once upon a time.

"Gather yourself. Assemble."

I will paint tonight.

I will colour my own darkness.

I will dance tonight.

I will fill with music, my own hollow.

I have seen enough lifelessness.

I will believe tonight. Life will follow.

Life will follow.

Photograph clicked at: Jammu and Kashmir, India.

I have fallen in love with places.

So the day drowns. I bubble blue songs at that fading yellow dot. It always reminds me of your smile.
I search that smile as I look at my palm holding these limpid crystals of snow.
Snow melts, I fear. Still I sit with faith on these logs talking to these shivering leaves, like we had known one another long ago.
I have fallen in love with people.
I have fallen in love with places.
Photograph clicked at: Jammu and Kashmir, India.

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.in/2017/02/poets-united-midweek-motif-faith.html?m=1