PASSERBY

Again, I'm standing here,
waiting for you to come along
as I look at the passerbys
while listening to our favourite song.
It's a peaceful day in August,
yet somehow something feels
just wrong.— % &Seeing my shadow disappear, I look at the sky.
The dark clouds makes the queasy feeling in my stomach grows strong.
Wild wind blows towards me, making me turn my head around,
as if trying to save me from the fate
that was already prolonged. — % &Coz as soon as I looked back, I saw you.... With her.
And as the rain starts pouring down,
I wish that when there was still a chance, I too should have gone.
You are laughing, not bothered by the rain
chasing and kissing her, holding her close,
like a picture of happiness drawn.— % &The raindrops fall from my cheek, mixing with my tears as I stand there
suddenly feeling withdrawn.
The flower vase fall from my hand.
With the glass, in a million pieces, shattered my heart, what for me,
with you the whole time, did belong.— % &A passerby running away from the rain steps on the flowers, leaving them crumbled and stomped.
Just like my broken heart felt as you cross the road and come towards me. Seeing me all drenched and trembling, your eyes go wide. Dumbfounded, you babble as you try and fawn.— % &Your girl frowns looking at us as I pull myself away from your desperate cries
and with the wind,
like a passerby, I move along.— % &And as I move on, all the endless waiting, the forgetfulness, the carelessness, the rudeness, it all made sense now.
In your busy life, this is what I was, what I'll ever be... A passerby hoping to find a place to belong. — % &

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आसमान से चुन कर
तारे आँचल में पिरोए थे।
खुशियों के वादों से
दामन सजाये थे।
खुशी के आंसुओं से आँखें थी भर आई
पर वो आँसू
किसीने ना छिपाए थे।

शायद
आँचल में उसके
भरे हमने जो सितारे कम थे।
झोली में भरे
खुशियों के वादे वो कम थे।
या कुछ वक्त ने हम पर
ढाए सितम थे।
या शायद हमारी किस्मत में ही
लिखे बस गम थे।
तभी तो गम के आँसू
कुछ ने छिपाए
कुछ ने छिपाए अपने ज़ख्म थे।

-

Maybe
my soul
has become dry.
Tell me
do you hear
its desperate cry?

Can you feel
its thirst?
How hard it is trying
to keep it all together
not to let go
and just burst?

Will you give it
your love?
Or maybe borrow a potion of hope
from the witch above.

To fill the cracks
and bind it all together.
Make me your own
for now and forever.

-

What is poetry,
if not
the spilled ink?
Time flying away
with just a blink.

-

I want my poems to end
on either
a soothing note
or in a crushingly cruel way
that will make anyone
slit their throat.

-

What is poetry,
if not
on your shirt,
a baby's drool?
In serious moments
what makes you
wanna turn into
a fool.

-

Saying that
I understand you
without trying to even know
the reason behind my pain,
you lose me
more than
you could have
ever gained.

-

What is poetry,
if not
my feelings for you?
No matter what life throws at us,
they will always
remain true.

-

What is poetry,
if not
on those beautiful lips,
a rare smile?
What reminds us that
all things
that need to be preserved
are fragile.

-

What is poetry,
if not
the songs that we hear?
What makes the clouds go away
and helps us see everything
a little more clear.

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