Secrets

the womb of night has to nurture
and endure

------------
Update:

Pravin Gandhi wrote: Wonderful. Whenever I'm travelling, from the car/train/plane I see the windows of buildings lit in the dark of night and am awed by the fact there is a story behind each window and that there are a million stories there. 

Raat ne kya kya khwaab dikhaaye rang bhare sou jaal bichhaaye (Talat Mahmood)

My reply:
aankh khuli to sapne tute... dil ne to chaaha bhul hi jaaye voh afsaane kyon doharaaye raat ne kya kya khwaab dekhaaye

Thank you Pravin, for loving this for the same reason that I took it.
------------
Update:
Subhasish Bose wrote:

Khudar raajje prithibi gadya maya, purnimar chand jaano jhalsano roti. (In the kingdom of hunger / The full moon looks like a burnt roti.)

-- KABI SUKANTA BHATTACHARYA,uncle of Bhuddhadeb Bhattacharya,ex cm West Bengal

My reply:

I honour a great poet, and a great simile that he versified; but as much as I tried to recall any hungry, poor, deprived man or woman or child, or even myself when I was indigent, to even have thought of the moon, as an edible object, let alone a burnt one, I could not. Truly, among all thoughts that pass their minds, the moon, stars, clouds are excluded. This is not to deny Sukantobabu his greatness, or poetic licence.