'Roadside'

Tell me what I'm s'posed to do,

With all these leftover feelings of you,

'Cause I don't know,

And tell me how I'm s'posed to feel,

When all these nightmares become real,

'Cause I don't know,

And I don't think, you see the places inside me that I find you,

And I don't know, how we separate the lies here from the truth,

And I don't know, how we woke up one day somehow thought we knew,

Exactly what we're supposed to do.

So leave me, at the Roadside,

And hang me, up and out to dry,

So leave me, at the Roadside,

And hang me, up and out to dry,

And I don't think, you see the places inside me that I find you,

And I don't know, how we woke up one day somehow thought we knew,

Exactly what we're supposed to do.

So leave me, at the Roadside,
And hang me, up and out to dry,
So leave me, at the Roadside,
And hang me, up and out to dry,

And I don't think, you see the places inside me that I find you,
And I don't know, how we woke up one day somehow thought we knew,
Exactly what we're supposed to do.

ullu ka patha!

This is that phase of my life where i am just waiting for something to happen so i can cry buckets of tears. and ironically, nothing is happening. i just keep seeing zardari aka ullu ka patha on the TV and in the papers all the time and no, i just will NOT cry looking at him. they maybe worthless, but my tears will not be wasted on him atleast. also, again, atif aslam is GAY!

moi

I wonder if it is possible for two people to “meet” each other at the exact same time in all possible alternate universe. I wonder if those people will “feel” the same things they felt the “first time” if the first time was repeated. I wonder when we will find the “right” words to say to “each other”. I wonder when you will stop telling yourself that you can “live” like this. I wonder if you “remember” our meaningless conversations. I wonder if you still think about all those plans that never “worked out”. I wonder what will “happen” to “us” now.

It IS too late, right? We CAN feel it, right? We ARE different, right? This just CAN’T work out, right?

How will you ever find me if you ever looked? I'm gone so far away now. I was there once. I waited too. I waited, alone and very scared and very sure that you’d never come looking. But I waited. Just so that I could hate you more. Enough to forget you. Enough never to even think about waiting for anybody again. I’m still waiting though. Doesn’t seem as if my theory worked. I’ve come so far away from you now that I see only shadows behind me. Silhouettes that move; move back, move away.

I wonder if I was ever capable of this. I wonder if hiding is a great option. I wonder if I can hide myself in tiny parts. I wonder if my smithereens will hurt many people. If they do, I wonder if that’ll be my fault. I wonder why people called you such a master. Did I do too? I wonder why.

What am I to do with “me” now? “Me” doesn’t know how to do anything without “you”. “Me” looks everywhere for “us”. When “me” cries over the broken toy, nobody is there to glue “you” to “us”.

I’m here and I’m cold and scared and very very drunk. And still in my senses. The rest of the world is starting a new day with their wounded emotions and broken hearts. Me? I’m looking at the door every two minutes, hoping that you’ll walk in and get me drunk enough to forget you. But you won’t come. Because I’m not worth it. I’m just not.