You and I. You and I. We. Are meant to be so much more. Look around. We are in middle of the cross section of an infinite roads. Forget about where you came from. Forget about where I met you. Hold my hands. And point your fingers at any road you like. Let’s walk. And find ourselves on that path. ~RavS

The beautiful thing about poetry is that you and i and he and she will read exactly the same words but they would never mean the same to any of us. ~RavS

I fear one day I won’t be left with anything to say or write or express. No jokes, no wits, no stories, no compliments, no confessions, NOTHING. There will be just silence left. A blank expression. I fear if you would get bored of me that day. And leave me to find someone who could still entertain you or be useful. I won’t be angry with you. How could I? It’s just that I would be infuriated with self, I couldn’t keep you longer than this. I thought you would stay forever. But forever is always too long to be true… ...

If CANNIBALISM were ALLOWED, I would have EATEN you ALIVE. Can’t think of another SOLUTION to the problem that’s YOU. ~RavS

वहशियत तो ना कम कभी हुई है, ना कभी होगी। सुकून तो है वहां पे, पर ज़िन्दगी तो यहीं इंतज़ार कर रही। दर्द जो तुम्हें है, है तकलीफ मुझे भी। तुम्हें ज़िल्लत सहने का, मुझे वादा ना निभा पाने की। डर है तुम गुमनामी के अंधेरों ना खो जाओ कहीं , और मैं नहीं ढूँढ पाऊँगा तुमको सूरज की रौशनी में भी। चाहता तो बहुत था बनना, पर मैं इंसान हूँ तुम्हारा खुदा नहीं। पर मैं साथ रहूँगा जितना भी उसने मुझे ताकत है दी। कसम है मुझे मेरी खुशियों की, जो तुम्हारे काम आने में कहीं कोई कमी रह गयी , तो मान जाओ, खुद के लिए नहीं तो मेरे लिए ही सही। ...

Next time you tell me I can’t do something, I am going to shove a rag through your mouth and choke your neck to the point of suffocation. When you are deprived of oxygen, and are jostling for life, eyes coming out of your ducts, face getting pale; you would do anything and everything to survive. You would scratch, claw, kick, scuffle till your last moment. Please don’t make me asphyxiate you, for you to realize the kind of struggle I want you to devote to succeed. ...

बिन छुए, बिन कुछ कहे , दूर बहुत दूर तुमसे बैठे , कैसे मैं हँसाऊं तुम्हें। बिना तुम्हें गुस्सा किये , बिना तुम्हें दर्द दिए , कैसे अपनी बेबसी का एहसास कराऊँ तुम्हें। तुम्हारी हर छोटी छोटी बात याद है मुझे , तुम्हारी आँखों से गिरा हर कतरा जेहेन में अब तक साफ़ है मेरे , पर कैसे मैं दिखाऊं तुम्हें। ये शर्मिंदगी, ये लाचारी , ये गुस्सा, ये उदासी , ये सब दिखावा तो नहीं। मुझे सच में बहुत लगता है , जब तुम्हें ठेस है लगती। अब कैसे विश्वास दिलाऊँ तुम्हें। ...

I always thought being a poet meant having an extraordinary vocabulary, an incredible imagination and a knack of finding the right words for the right situation. But now I know, it’s all bollocks. To be a poet, at least in my eyes, you just need two things - a madly vulnerable heart and a courage to rip it apart. ~RavS

नन्ही सी तो हो तुम मेरे सामने, पर मैं इतना भी बड़ा नहीं, की तुम मुझे ओढ़ कर, दुनिया से खुद को बचा लोगी। ~रबी [ You are so tiny, my baby, but I am not that huge even, that you can wrap me around, and save yourself from the world. ]

Unconditional love is like distilled water. Perfect in concept but impractical in reality. And what use is that love unless it is adultered by a pinch of possessiveness, jealousy, expectations. insecurity, dread, anger, cravings… Let’s leave unconditional love for the Gods and the Immortal Fables. Let’s anticipate a little bit in love and let’s be disappointed when that doesn’t happen. What’s wrong in conditional love? What’s wrong? ~RavS ...