I am not a real man. I am not a man like others, a man of flesh and blood. I did not come into this world like your fellow men. No one rocked me in my cradle, or watched over my growing years. I have not known the restlessness of adolescence, or the comfort of family ties. I am - and I will say this out loud though perhaps you may not want to believe me - I am but a figure in a dream. In me, Shakespeare's image has become literally and tragically exact: I am such stuff as dreams are made on! I exist because someone is dreaming of me, someone who is now asleep and dreaming and sees me act and live and move, and in this very moment is dreaming that I am saying these words...
2 comments:
woh naam tha badal gaya,
main shaam thi dhal gai,
woh lafz tha mit gaya,
main nazar thi jhuk gai,
woh parwana tha jal gaya,
main shama thi pighal gai,
woh ashk tha beh gaya,
main dard thi seh gai,
woh chand tha chup gaya,
mai baarish thi baras gai,
woh taufaan tha guzar gaya,
mai sapna thi bikhar gai..........
hmm pretty :)
Who is the poet?
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