न होता मैं ...

न था कुछ तो खुदा था, कुछ न होता तो खुदा होता;
डुबोया मुझको होने ने, न होता मैं तो क्या होता।

हुआ जब गम से यूँ बेहिस,तो डर क्या सर के कटने का;
न होता गर जुदा तन से, तो ज़ानो पे धरा होता।

When depression takes over so much, then why fear the head being cut off. Simply, if it was not down there, it would have been on my shoulders.

The fact that my body is giving away to forces of nature; and my mind is losing its power to the depression that is slowly eating away my thoughts, to a stage where mere words remain meaninglessly linked to each other, not forming a statement.

Good that the fear of death is now getting lesser with time passing by.
Bad that the race will have to left incomplete.
Ugly - my rotton mind will rot further in this self destructive phase.

What is the use of fighting a losing war? But because I have absolutely nothing else to do, I would continue to sit on my three legged donkey, staggering to put up a brave act. till.... either the war is over, or I am ...

हुई मुद्दत ग़ालिब मर गया, पर याद आता है;
वो हर बात पे कहना के यूँ होता तो क्या होता।