I Am Always Carrying Mexico In My Nostrils,
Tecate’s Smell Of Burning Garbage,
Ashed Things Blown Around Afterward.
The Beautiful Orphanage,
That Place Of Death, Valley Of Deformity
Squeezed Between Large Rolling Hills.
Maanaa Ke Pyaar “Aisaa†Hota Hain
Ya Phir Pyaar “Waisaa†Hota Hain
Magar Kaisey Maanengey Ham Ke
Pyaar “Aisaa-Waisaa†Hota Hain
Yahaan Dil Ka Soudaa Hota Hain
Ya Phir Takdeer Savarnaa Hota Hain
Jo Jitnii Ibaadat Kartaa Utni
Duvaa Ka Wo Hakdaar Hota Hain
Kiya Yehi Piyaar Ki Intiha Nahin
Kiya Ae Piyaar Ka Silsila Nahin
Tum Na Deakha Nahin Jakae Gulshan Main
Kaesae Kehtae Ho Phul Koi Khila Nahin
Dil Mein Khalish Sa Hota Hai Jahn Suna Suna Sa Rhata Hai
Hai Shayad Kuch Baaki Jo Badan Sulgti Baarish Sa Rhata Hai
Shamo Sahar Dil Kuch Udaas Kuch Tanhaa Tanha Sa Rahta Hai
Hai Shayad Koi Jiska Mere Tasvvur Ko Intzaar Sa Rahta Hai