"Tujhe Chhoo Loon Toh Kuch Mujhe Ho Jaayega

Jo Main Chahta Na Ho Mujhko

Tujhe Mil Ke Yeh Dil Mera Beh Jaayega Issi Baat Ka Darr Hai Mujhko

Ke Ho Naa Jaaye Pyaar Tumse Mujhe. Kar Dega Barbaad Ishq Mujhe..."

Kehte hain mohabbat barabari walon se karni chahiye... magar yahan toh ek taraf sajda tha, aur doosri taraf sirf inkaar.

Mohabbat unke darmiyaan thi hi nahi... jo tha, woh usse kahin zyada khatarnaak tha...

Aur woh tha... ishq.

Ishq...

Yeh ishq bhi nawabon ki mehfil jaisa nikla... taaliyan sabne di, magar barbaad sirf ek shakhs hua.

Shayad woh mard ishq ke qabil kabhi tha hi nahi... magar ishq kab qabilon ka mohtaaj raha hai?

Ishq... woh qaid hai jahan zanjeerein nazar nahi aati... magar rooh umr bhar ghutno par rehti hai.

Kehte hain ishq rooh ko mukammal karta hai... magar humne toh logon ko ishq ke baad sirf bikharte dekha hai.

Ishq se khoobsurat koi gunaah nahi... aur ishq se badhkar koi saza bhi nahi.

Ishq ki fitrat hi ajeeb hai... yeh usi dar par sajda karwata hai... jahan se insaan ko sabse zyada thukraya jaata hai.

Woh kehte rahe ishq rehmat hai... shayad isi liye har aashiq ki aankhon mein qayamat utarti hai.

Kyunki kuch kahaniyan mohabbat ke liye nahi hoti... woh sirf is liye likhi jaati hain taake insaan samajh sake ki ishq kabhi insaaf nahi karta.

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Yeh dastaan thi ishq ki... na paane ki tamanna, na khone ka hausla. Bas khuda se ek hi gunaah ho gaya- ek paak rooh ko us jaise gunaahgaar se ishq ho gaya.

Ek taraf woh mard tha jiske naam se raat bhi kaanp jaati thi...

aur ek taraf woh ladki thi jise khuda ne sirf rehmat ke liye banaya tha.

Aur jab rehmat aur azaab ek hi raaste par aa jaye... toh insaan nahi, sirf kahaniyan bachti hain.

Kehte hain kuch log mohabbat ke liye bane hote hain... aur kuch log sirf tabahi ke liye.

Woh bhi unhi tabah logon mein se ek tha-jiske haathon par khoon tha, aur rooh par laanat.

Magar phir na jaane kaise... ek paak si ladki usse apna khuda maan baithi.

Ek shehzadi thi... jo ek barbaad saltanat ke badshah se mohabbat kar baithi.

Uski aankhon mein jo mohabbat thi na... woh kisi mehfil mein sunayi jaane wali ghazal nahi thi. Woh toh qabr tak saath utarne wala ishq tha.

Sone ke mehal chhod diye... sirf ek aise mard ke liye... jiske naseeb mein kabhi ghar likha hi nahi gaya tha.

Yeh mohabbat aam nahi thi, sahab... warna ek shahzaadi apni taqdeer se baghawat karke... maut ke saaye mein panaah lene nahi aati.

Suna hai ishq rooh se hota hai... warna kaun apni jannat chhod kar, ek dozakh-zada mard ke saath chala jaata hai?

Woh uski mohabbat nahi banna chahta tha... kyunki kuch mard jaante hain ki unke haath sirf barbaadi likhte hain.

Woh uski taraf dekhta zaroor tha... magar us nazar mein hawas nahi hoti thi. Sirf ek khauf hota tha- ke kahin uski badnaseebi us ladki ko bhi barbaad na kar de.

Usne usse kabhi chhoone ki zid nahi ki... jaise koi faqeer dargah ke bahar khade reh kar bhi, andar ki rehmat ko apna nahi kehta.

Usne kabhi apni mohabbat ka izhaar nahi kiya... magar uski har khamoshi cheekh kar kehti thi- "Tum meri kamzori ho."

Woh usse chhod toh deta... agar us ladki ne uski barbaadi ko bhi mohabbat samajh kar qubool na kiya hota.

Woh aurat mohabbat mein kya hi haari hogi... jo apna ghar, apna naam, apni duniya chhod aayi.

Aur woh mard kitna badnaseeb hoga... jo usse paakar bhi khud ko uske qabil na samajh saka.

Woh uski zindagi mein mohabbat ban kar nahi aayi thi... rehmat ban kar aayi thi. Aur rehmaton ko aksar gunaahgaar log pehchaan nahi paate.

Us mard ne duniya se kabhi haar nahi maani thi... phir ek din ek ladki aayi, aur usne uska saara ghuroor sajde mein gira diya.

Woh usse bachata raha apni duniya se... aur woh uski duniya mein barbaad hone ki zid karti rahi.

Aur phir ek din... roshni ne andhere ka haath thaam liya. Duniya ko laga qayamat aa gayi.

[ They say love should exist between equals... but here, one side was devotion, and the other only rejection.

There was never love between them... what existed was far more dangerous than that.

And that was... ishq.

This ishq turned out to be like a gathering of nawabs... everyone applauded, but only one soul was destroyed.

Perhaps that man was never worthy of love... but since when has ishq ever cared about worthiness?

Ishq... is a prison where the chains are invisible, yet the soul spends a lifetime on its knees.

They say love completes the soul... but all we have ever seen after ishq is people falling apart.

There is no sin more beautiful than ishq... and no punishment more merciless either.

The nature of ishq is strange... it makes a person bow before the very door, where they are rejected the most.

They kept saying ishq is mercy... perhaps that is why every lover carries an apocalypse in their eyes.

Because some stories are not written for love... they are written so humanity can understand, that ishq never believes in justice.

This was a tale of ishq...

neither the desire to possess, nor the courage to let go. Only one sin was committed before God- a pure soul fell in love with a sinner like him.

On one side stood a man whose very name made the night tremble...

and on the other, a girl whom God had created only for mercy.

And when mercy and destruction walk the same path... people do not survive, only stories do.

They say some people are born for love... and some are born only for ruin.

He belonged among the ruined ones- a man with blood on his hands and damnation upon his soul.

Yet somehow...

a pure-hearted girl chose to worship him like her God.

There was a princess... who fell in love with the king of a fallen kingdom.

The love in her eyes was not some ghazal meant for grand gatherings. It was the kind of ishq that descends into the grave with you.

She abandoned palaces of gold... for a man, who was never destined to have a home.

This was no ordinary love, sir... otherwise, why would a princess rebel against her own fate, just to seek refuge beneath the shadow of death?

They say ishq belongs to the soul... otherwise, who leaves behind heaven itself, to walk beside a man cursed like hell?

He never wanted to become her love... because some men know, their hands are only capable of destruction.

Yes, he looked at her... but there was never desire in his gaze. Only fear- that his misfortune might destroy her too.

He never insisted on touching her... like a beggar standing outside a shrine, who never dares to call the blessings within his own.

He never confessed his love... yet every silence of his screamed only one thing-"You are my weakness."

He would have left her... if that girl had not accepted even his destruction as love.

What must that woman have lost in love... who left behind her home, her name, her entire world.

And how cursed must that man have been... who, even after having her, still could not believe himself worthy of her.

She did not enter his life as love... she came as mercy. And sinners rarely recognize blessings when they arrive.

That man had never bowed before the world... until one day a girl arrived and brought all his pride to its knees.

He kept trying to protect her from his world... while she kept insisting on being destroyed within it.

And then one day... light took the hand of darkness. The world thought the apocalypse had arrived.]