Abhey Gupta

Tag: memories

memories

  • Ray in the Midst of Rain

    With the shadow of light,
    and the darkness disappearing into the light of belief;
    in the shadow of the new, old memories take their places —
    and in the memory of a gloomy loss, aren’t we losing the world of today?

  • 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.

  • Come to Go

    The dream sleeps with the dawn,
    and when nostalgia grips the soul at the day’s end,
    when the world rejoices in the pain of being someone in disguise,
    I find myself in the past of time.

    When, at the shelter of love, they grow hate —
    mania and garishness are their intake;
    though surrendering to the darkness all around,
    all alone, I ship my way.

    People come, and go away,
    just like another season of a year;
    with the change, they drift away,
    but I look on, silently, at everything, like every day.

    When they shout at the fool of a day,
    I wonder who is the better one of the day;
    the same interests, so many others —
    but all of it, when I come, only to go away…

  • On the Mirror Side

    A long way of time, but another line just like it,
    dubbing the self so gracefully;
    I quest for myself, on the mirror’s side.

    The opened threads of memories,
    delicate enough to tear apart —
    disillusion is another life,
    with the person living on the mirror side.

    I throw myself into him,
    and lose my reflection in the grey;
    it ends with the start of a new quest:
    who is living on the mirror side?

    Holding it back with a few faint clings,
    I sit on yet another cliff of time;
    I am ready to leave behind, to begin —
    but the person on the mirror side?

  • Running Ends of Clock

    I am walking plain roads, but leaving my steps behind;
    reasons, or wants — but quarrels and love in all.
    Never a pearl, nor less than any precious memory —
    yet I am lost in a garland of them.
    “O you, the traveler of memories — where do you stop, and shed your nights in the same place?”

    A silent way ahead, but at the cost of what?
    Maybe some lost friends,
    maybe some buds of love,
    or just a few pieces of my own soul,
    lost on the highway of it all.

    I am travelling on plain ground, to leave a few more steps behind,
    hoping to last this journey with the known;
    but the steps of the day outlast the thirst of my every moment —
    joyous in nothing ahead, again, but these steps I have walked down.

  • Chasing Old Dreams

    The long time, and the long way —
    but all I feel has passed in a few short hours;
    all is clear, yet forgetting turns melancholic,
    and still I walk, instead of tempting loneliness.

    Instead of tagging the best moments of life,
    all I hold is a restless struggle with myself;
    it began with the start, toward an end —
    but with the endless journey of arguments,
    day after day passes, like an inheritance.

  • मेरी एक दोस्त

    मंद-मंद हवा-सी बहती, बेफ़िक्र खिलखिलाती — वो हस्ती,
    महकती, बहकती, किसी को बहलाती, दीवाना बनाती — वो हस्ती।

    एक पल के लिए थाम लेती वो सबके सपनों की डोर,
    फिर छोड़, बच्चों-सी नादान बनकर कहती — “हूँ ही मैं इतनी अच्छी।”

    अक्सर आँखों से कुछ बोलती, ज़ुबान से कुछ और —
    यूँ तो हँसती थी वो हर वक़्त, लेकिन रोती भी थी कभी-कभी।

    फिर भी, हँसती-खिलखिलाती, ज़िन्दगी से खुश — चलती रहती, वो मेरी एक दोस्त…

  • Best Memoirs

    Step over step, as I move further into my life,
    I find one name written across my memories.
    Winds and floods of troubles passed over you,
    yet it stays intact — my finest memory.

    Someday, somehow, it was meant to be:
    that we would meet, and become good friends.
    Now, when I pour out my silence,
    I always remember you, my friend.

    In a moment of darkness,
    you hold me in your caress;
    and in a moment of dullness,
    one name draws close to me again.

    Some of my greatest memories are these —
    those little but sweet fights with you,
    the whispered words of love,
    and how I loved to share my everything with you.

  • वो एक मुस्कुराहट

    जब कभी मैं ख़ामोश होता हूँ,
    किसी दुख के अँधेरे में खो-सा जाता हूँ —
    मुझे एक आवाज़, एक हँसी सुनाई देती है:
    वो एक तुम्हारी मुस्कुराहट…

    लगता है, एक आदत-सी हो गई है
    मुझे सपनों में गुम हो जाने की —
    इसलिए, कि मुझे मिली थी वो ख़ुशी,
    शायद वो तुम्हारी एक मुस्कुराहट की…

    कभी-कभी चेहरों में ढूँढता रहता हूँ,
    मिल जाए मुझे फिर वैसी कोई हँसी —
    मगर नहीं, कोई मिली अभी तक:
    वो एक मुस्कुराहट — जानी-अनजानी — मेरी एक दोस्त की…

  • 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.