Mujhe nahi pata tab kya hua hota, Jab tu wahi hota, Do gaz ki doori pe, Saari duniya ki jagaaho mein se, Phir se meri duniya ke...

It's possesive possession, Of a person's character, That I noted, created, gifted, Out of random readings and observations, Of paragraphs...

I have lost count, Of the things, I want to tell you, Because I want to tell you everything, And I've told you nothing, Probably it's for...

Now, It just seems, Almost like a figment, Of my imagination, His existence, That made a way, In my poems, Now, It just seems, Like history.