This is not the star
Of the sky
Nor a fresh flower
...
If you would have been a sun,
And I were a cloud
In the sky of our imagination
I covered your face
...
Some of my friends who later turned enemies
Once told me, get out or come out of this place
And let not the theme of your poems only be concerning us
Global issues are dealt by the global poets
...
For whom and for what has this flower bloomed
No curiosity have I grown, nor have I any mood
To know at all, which fragrance it spreads around,
What colours, pink or purple and where does it wear
...
Over the boundary inside this continent
There lived a poet where our holy lands meet
I did not see her picture yet I am led to imagine
By reading out her lovely executed poems
...
Flower business is costly
As of the gardening
Always set a series of losses
Like life itself
...
I am
Given a present
When your husband departs
Or Wives come home
...
I thought you were cloud
But came down as a rain
In my life made a flood
Kissed my petals wetly
...