To me, however, the question of the times resolved itself into a practical question of the conduct of life. How shall I live? We are incompetent to solve the times. Our geometry cannot span the huge orbits of the prevailing ideas, behold their return, and reconcile their opposition. We can only obey our own polarity.
I do not approve the extermination of the enemy; the policy of exterminating or, as it is barbarously said, liquidating enemies, is one of the most alarming developments of modern war and peace, from the point of view of those who desire the survival
Ishq Mein Mombati Sa Jal Raha Hoon Main.
Tere Moh Ki Tapish Hai,
Pal Pal Har Pal Pighal Raha Hoon Main.
Roshni Hoga Ishq Mera Lakhon Dil Jalon Ke Liye,
Hasratein Dhagon Mein Piroye Chal Raha Hoon
Main.
Bas Chal Raha Hoon Main……iii
And this activity alone would seem to be loved for its own sake; for nothing arises from it apart from the contemplating, while from practical activities we gain more or less apart from the action. And happiness is thought to depend on leisure; for we are busy that we may have leisure, and make war that we may live in peace.
Woh Nadiyan Nahi Thi Mere Aansu
The, Jis Par Mere Dost Kashtiyan
Chalate Rahe, Manzil Mile Unhain
Ye Chahat Thi Meri, Isliya
Hum Ansu Pe Ansu Bahatay Rahe.
Bus Yahi Ek Raat Mili Hai Muqaddar Se Mujhe,
Uski Baahon Mein Rah Lene Do,
Zubaan Se To Gile Shiqwe Hi Mile Hain,
Ab Khamoshi Se Kuchh Kah Lene Do,
Bus Yeh Hi Ek Raat Mili Hai Muqadar Se Mujhe,
Aaj In Aankhon Se Baat Kar Lene Do !!