Abhey Gupta

Author: Abhey Gupta

  • Don’t Have Now

    One day, hurt and confused,
    I looked around — where am I?
    I was trying to find myself again,
    but the mirror of my guilt stood before me.

    I looked at him; he stared back at me.
    Tired, at last, of trying to neglect him,
    he still followed me —
    am I his shadow, or is he me?

    Confusing… but at least it is my own.
    I thought as much, and moved on,
    yet paranoia was all I felt;
    there was nothing left to see.

    I have come to understand one thing:
    running away was never the solution.
    What shall I tell my soul now,
    lost in the depth of all I don’t have now?

  • मै पंछी विशाल नील गगन का

    मैं पंछी विशाल नील गगन का,
    मुझे आज इसमें समा जाने दो।
    आज मन-सागर के भावों को फूट-फूट कर,
    किरण की भाँति इस गगन में बह जाने दो।

    दूर कहीं है कोई मुझे पुकार रहा —
    ऐसा सोचते हुए मुझे उड़ जाने दो।
    आज खोल दो इस पिंजरे का ताला,
    विशाल नील गगन की सैर पर जाने दो।

    मैं पंछी विशाल नील गगन का,
    ज्ञान-अज्ञान की परिभाषा से परे।
    मालूम है तो सिर्फ़ एक प्रेम की भाषा —
    आज मुझे फिर हवाओं पर सवार हो जाने दो।

    नफ़रत की भाषा का यह कैसा स्वरूप?
    मुझे न तुम लोग इसमें घसीट डालो।
    सोचने को हैं और भी बहुत-सी बातें, लेकिन
    मुझे आज इस आसमान में खो जाने दो।

    मैं पंछी विशाल नील गगन का,
    मुझे आज सिर्फ़ उड़ जाने दो।
    असीमित है मेरे मन का बल —
    मरने से पहले एक बार जी जाने दो।

  • Forgive Me

    I was wrong, and somewhere, so were you…
    Things were never as bad as they seemed.
    A few uttered words of my soul,
    and a few of hers, dissolved it all—
    the unnamed thing we had between us.

    Hope is all I can do, and all I have now.
    Things will be the same again someday;
    I’ll hold the same dreams in my eyes
    and taste those tears of joy once more.
    I’ll hear those words one day—
    but silence is all I assume for now.

    I’ve heard it often: time heals all wounds.
    But feeling—can it ever be surpassed?
    This is the one thing I know, after all of this:
    some things will never bend to your will.

    So I let go of all my complaining—
    forgive me, because I was wrong.

  • If I Am

    If I were a free-flying bird,
    touching the heights of the sky,
    free-falling, then rising again,
    flying higher and higher—

    if I were a snake,
    moving here and there,
    watching for my prey,
    hissing out my bravery—

    if I were a mammal,
    walking and running for food,
    fighting for my own space—
    happiness would still be there.

    But if I am a human being,
    all I do is fool the others;
    greed is the only thing I tend,
    killing another for my pride.

    If I am a human being,
    then I am no longer me—
    I have lost my soul in a world of money,
    and I blame others for my fate.

    So I am no more a human being.

  • The Hypocrites

    Everyone wears a face,
    asking one another, “Tell me about you”—
    knowing so little of anything,
    yet boasting about everything.

    My nerves are so messed up;
    I feel completely drained.
    Thinking it over, again and again—
    what do I do? What do I really do?

    Should I become like them,
    or make a rule of my own?
    Should I try to change them,
    or bend beneath my own knees?

    Yes—that is the question:
    what face should I wear today?
    That I’m the happiest of all,
    that I never get hurt,
    that I’m not alone in this world?

    I’m still confused, as if by nothing,
    spending all day and night
    thinking it through to a summary—
    wearing faces upon faces,
    living each day behind a new one,
    calling them my self, and me.

  • World He Left Behind

    As a child, he was free—
    free to speak, to laugh, to do as he pleased.
    As a child, he had a way
    of hiding, of losing himself in a dream.

    Pain, sorrow, and hurt
    were nowhere along his path.
    Tears still came, and often—
    but not from helplessness, as they do now.

    Anger was never a friend of his;
    now he cannot live without it.
    He was once immune to jealousy;
    now he is a patient of it.

    Logical or illogical,
    he never used to care—
    now, time and again, he must ask:
    am I even right enough to cope?

    Isn’t he lost in this vast world,
    where only the hunger for money is left to feel?
    He owns everything he has—
    but for that, he sold his soul.

    His eyes speak every word
    he cannot say: he longs to fly free.
    No one sees how alone he is,
    fallen so low, as if he were the only one.

    But fiercely he vows
    he will not break, will not cry anymore;
    he will face it all alone.
    And drawing a single breath, he left—

    with one ray of light
    to find the world he had lost,
    and build a world of his own,
    living inside a dream
    to find the world he left behind.

  • Even With You Here

    Even with you here at night,
    I’m lost in the depths of darkness.

    No light to be seen—only the curse of pain,
    as sorrow weaves its web of solitude.

    Ecstasy rides the fresh-rain breeze,
    yet far away a tunnel of nostalgia beckons.
    My soul is snared by the monster of loneliness.

    The sun rises, banishing the night,
    yet my soul stays shrouded in confusion.

    I wish to wander through the night,
    where no one would ever know
    that I cry for you in silence.

  • Sand of Past Memories

    Sand of past memories,
    flowing through the desert of emotion,
    the faces of truth and lies—
    silence speaks of everything;

    the meaning of love is nothing to understand…
    What does it matter if someone is nothing?
    A question of life, still to be answered…

    Still waiting—you left; they left.
    Everything fell apart inside my mind.

    Still, I wear a false smile on my face,
    with a thousand other faces of life,
    to answer my own soul—
    still waiting for answers…

  • You Matter to Me

    You matter to me.

    You were my dream;
    those were my screams.
    You were there again in tonight’s dreams—
    why, why again, tonight?

    Sick of your pain,
    the kiss of your fake chain.

    I remember all those moments
    when you, the only one, would wander.

    No… no… no… no… no—but
    I still love you.

    Who cares about the hurt
    when I care only for you—
    because you matter to me.

  • The Arrival of Your Absence

    Fine were my days and nights
    until the day you weren’t there.
    I couldn’t answer my own soul—
    how could I ever answer you?

    Fine were my days and nights
    till you found the courage to see me again.
    You are not my love; you only disguise her.

    The rain, the wind, the soothing smell of soil,
    the smoke slowly lifting—
    you came back, confusing me more than before.

    Hard to answer, hard to understand
    how you could have done that.

    Fine were my days and nights;
    when you were not there, I was my own.