Wishes and Regrets Left Behind

I was young—naive, perhaps too tender to see
that you’d always hold a quiet corner in my heart.
I let you go, thinking time would wash the ache away,
but the feelings never truly left.

Sometimes I wonder...
Would your story have changed
if I had stayed?
Or would fate have still written it the same?

I wish I had stood by you.
I wish I had found a way to hold on,
to shield you from the storms you faced alone.
I wish I hadn’t left you
to walk a path I should have shared.

In another life,
I hope I’d have the chance to say—
I’m sorry.
Sorry for not being there when it mattered.
For walking away when I should have been your strength.

You never blamed me—
but the guilt lingers,
etched into the silence you left behind.
Now, I walk forward
with only wishes and regrets
as my quiet, lifelong companions.

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We could do or have some knowledge to do needful in proper time.

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When my busy schedule
doesn't let me write ,
I am left with regrets
for killing my writings
Eager to Emerge

Sometimes seems sin
Swallowing the secrets
Hidden within me for
The ages.

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Regret will eat you from Inside for the rest if your life.

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इन आंखों में डूबने को जाने कितने पछताएं
इन आंखों में डूबकर भी हम कितना पछताएं

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मैं नहीं बन पाया एक अच्छा बेटा
जो समझे माँ-बाप की परेशानी को
ना बन पाया अच्छा भाई
जो समझ सके बहनों की भावनाओ को
और मैं नहीं बन पाया अच्छा आशिक
जो महबूब की खामोशी को पढ़ सके
ना बन पाया अच्छा दोस्त
जो बुरे वक्त में उनके साथ खड़ा हो सके

अब मैं इस कोशिश में हूँ कि
बन पाऊं एक अच्छा इंसान
जिसकी इस दुनिया को जरूरत है।

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अगर मौत आयें, तो याद रहे तुम जिंदा रहो!!

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आपका अब वो पुराना पता रहा नहीं
हमने कभी मुकाम अपना छोड़ा नहीं

अफ़सोस था तो क्यों कहा नहीं
हमने तो दिल कभी आपका तोड़ा नहीं

उम्मीद थी जो हमने कुछ कहा नहीं
आपसे इश्क था बहुत ये थोड़ा नहीं

आपने कभी अलविदा कहा नहीं
हमने कभी इंतजार करना छोड़ा नहीं

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Remember to be considerate about life for there to be no regrets of dying!

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Still;
maybe some bridges are meant to burn
just to light the way back to ourselves and find reason to do a little introspection forgetting that something’s are really out of our control.

Tell me:
If regret speaks in poems and lessons wear disguises,are we truly learning,
or are we just fighting a losing battle?

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