Abhey Gupta

Tag: Distance

  • Another World

    Glaring, those black eyes at mine —
    I wonder, who is the angel?
    I moved back to the yard, and caught a glance of her:
    she is my love, and you…

    Holding back my heartbeat every time,
    I steady myself, and whisper in her ear,
    “Will you be my forever, in every life?”
    And she smiles back, and says yes to me…

    She pressed her lips to mine,
    and I wandered, in a wonderland;
    though she knows this is only for a while,
    she is the one I know — with love…

    I move back to my present, with hope,
    and all I see is one faint message of hers:
    “I know you, but you are not mine.”
    I know she is mine — but in another world.

  • Belovers

    Hand in hand, the lovers and the beloved,
    the loving soul of the world, and of God;
    but now, glancing through the mirror of time —
    just the remembrance of goodness, walking down the street, alone.

  • Clashes of Memories

    Like a ray in the mangrove fields,
    departing from one to another;
    there is a time that lives between two memories —
    a chase toward the one, and a chase away from the other.

  • My Thoughts

    Far, but not farther;
    near, but no nearer than my thoughts.
    Every lonely night, I wonder at the wandering moon —
    but the question is: where are you, my soul?

    At times, I too fear the distance,
    broader than any other memory;
    harder it is to feel, like any rock —
    yet everything is like a flowing river.

    A pebble, and a trembling heart,
    both adrift in a spring of flowing tears,
    from end to end — but this journey will never last.

    I am travelling all night for your return,
    like the moon that falls only to rise above the horizon,
    wrapped all around in clouds of love —
    but life is not a question of mine alone.

  • ख़ामोश नज़र

    जब वो ख़ामोश नज़र से मुझे देखती है,
    कुछ कहते-कहते न जाने कहाँ खो जाती है।

    जब मैं उससे नज़रें मिलाकर कहता हूँ —
    “कुछ तो बात है जो आप बताना चाहती हैं,”

    झुकी हुई पलकों से वो मुँह मोड़ लेती है,
    फिर धीरे से, एक झूठ ही सही, बोल देती है।

    कुछ कहना होता तो कह देती,
    पर न जाने क्यों, यह बात मुझे बेमानी लगती है।

  • My Lost Friend

    So unstoppable are my dreams,
    I cannot find the words to explain;
    still I am trying hard to find
    why you are so sweet — my lost friend.

    Like certain, lingering moments,
    I am waiting for her;
    as if I know what I am leading to —
    I know her name, still, my lost friend.

    Special, I feel — and so I am;
    not hard to find, yet so precious to hold.
    The smile she places on my face
    always makes me think of my lost friend.

    Like a heaven, I am in it —
    distant apart, yet the senses reach;
    when beauty lies more within than without,
    I get only one answer: my lost friend.

    People may seem so estranged,
    but you make me believe in you;
    a voice so sweet, playing in my head —
    just another track of my lost friend.

    I am sitting here, thinking of thee,
    wondering what I would be without you;
    but soon your face recalls the words —
    “I am here with you,” my lost friend.

  • Hate is Still

    A long, unsleeping night,
    a day that never sees its dawn,
    a light that never reaches its destination —
    just shades of a darker, all-too-real life.

    He is not so distant from you,
    yet a bridge still stands between you;
    he is not afraid of fate or fortune —
    but why is he so different now?

    His questions are a paranoid memory,
    needing a listener to be shared;
    control is not all that he needs.
    Is he searching for the unsaid question?

    Rise above all the bargaining and melancholy —
    darkness is all he loves now.
    You give him sorrow; he confronts it.
    At least it’s hate she is still giving him.

  • 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.