Do you love me?
She asked
Planting a peck on her cheek
'Love will Scar makeup' was his reply,
He escaped & ran
Barefooted in that January night;
3: 13 in the morning/night
Throwing things out of his cupboard.
To find his hardisk,
where he buries the dead,
Chilly pitch black nights,
Gloomy walls,
One of them might fell on him,
The one he talks to about love;
Halt eaten Cadburies &
Melancholic Januaries
Finally found his self-recorded nazm,
Shirtless & numb he lies in the corner listening to it,
He also found a piece of paper in an old diary which read in Hindi:
'ππ’π« π«πͺπ΄π¬π¦ π±π¦π¦π€π©π¦ π£π©π’π’π¨ π³π’π©π¦ π©π° π¬π’π πΆπ΄πͺ π΄π¦ π£π©π’π¨π°π¨π¦'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem