Faraaz Kazi

Today many of these selfish politicians are preying on the nation itself _ (belching corruption and farting discontent!)

But cocks aren__ supposed to lay eggs..._ Sahil said, trying to untangle himself. _...they__e supposed to fertilise them.

But a cock does not enter a hen_ it enters a_meow-meow!

When you love someone, you become immune to the hurt they cause you. You don__ love hoping to get something in return, you love because you have to. In its extreme form, it is a need to give, not a need to get.

Why wish for something that will never be? It ends in nothing but heartbreak. We wish, then we think about how things would be if our wishes came true. And we feel happy thinking about those things. But then we wake up and realise that our wishes don__ have wings. And it hurts because all the happiness that we thought of, was never real. Hold on to what you have, try to find your happiness in what is, rather than what should or could have been.

Life can be a real bitch at times and force us to destroy what we created. The important thing is to believe in what we created, to believe in the magic of the moment when we found those people in our lives, keep fighting until life bows down to our wishes and lets them be a part of our existence.

Love never comes with a brochure of rules and regulations, a prospectus with guides of what is acceptable and what is abominable. It__ a standard to follow your heart, and that__ what I did and if doing that hurt you, then I__ sorry_ sorry for coming in your life and wasting your time, for causing you an anguish so great that you could not bear the sight of me. Today, I am proud to stand up and honour myself and proclaim to the world_ yes, I loved someone more than myself. I loved someone truly, madly, deeply!

Beauty is the only human aspect which cannot be captured on any canvas howsoever hard an artist tries. At the most, the undaunted artist can replicate the beauty on paper but what is a replica in comparison to the original! The humbling resemblance can only be respected, not truly adored. Beauty cannot be imprisoned in the lens of a camera. The images of beauty are a moment of its essence. Beauty cannot be displayed to evoke pleasure for all on a cinema screen. Those are just its imprints, mere illusions of its existence. Beauty cannot be described by words; it cannot be written or read about. There are no suitable words in all the languages of the world, ancient or modern to hold it between a paper and a pen or a script and an eye. Beauty can only be experienced from far, its delightful aroma can only be tasted through one__ eyes and its pleasurable sight can only be felt from the soul.Beauty can only be best described at its origin through a befuddling silence, the kind that leaves one almost on the verge of a pleasurable death, just because one chooses beauty over life. There is nothing in this world to hold something so pure, so divine except a loving heart. And it is the only manner through which love recognises love; the language of love has no alphabet, no words.

If I had a choice, I wouldn__ be here_ I wouldn__ be anywhere.

All they do is warm their seats for their long tenures and eventually even their seats get dilapidated with the amount of money they hog in illegally and the only way it comes out is by tilting their huge pot-bellied frames to one side and emitting poisonous gases that not only depreciate their beloved seats but also the nation as a whole and then they shout __lobal Warming._ Hallelujah!

How strange it is that the house of these hedonic stalwarts is filled with all the luxuries of life, right from plasma televisions to Swiss bank cheque books. So how will they notice the tonnes of food grains rotting in the northern belt?

Despite wearing a Rolex, I have no time.

A minute teaches me sixty different ways to think about you.

Their hands are tied not by ropes but by the greed of the intermediaries that the system has generated, who eat up the farmer__ income while it is on its way into his hands.

It's love when someone can touch you without using their hands.

How could he maintain the apology in his eyes without getting carried away by her cherubic innocence?

Love?' he asked himself, giving no sense of recognition for that word in the dictionary of his mind. It was the only battle he had lost in life, the only thing that had been snatched away from him, before he could even claim it.

The pain would not leave him. It came to him like the tide that hits the sea.