Describing the perfection of the moment might end up making it imperfect but I cannot commit the sin of not sharing its beauty with you. The sky is in all its glory, birds have decided to celebrate the last ray of light and bid adieu to the sun. The dry leaves under my feet create music which was never heard before and shall never be repeated. I can for the first time in many years hear the sound of my own breath and one by one my thoughts leave me to solace as even they do not want to ruin the perfection of the moment. Time has stood still in this jungle. Everything is quiet. And suddenly out of nowhere, despite my desperate efforts a thought invades the solitude and reminds me of you. I shake my head hard enough to introduce an element of violence in the serenity of the forest. But the thought of you—what you would have said, what tune you would have hummed, or how your eyes on me would have felt—refuses to leave me. I decide against fighting the thought of you as I realize having a part of you, here, with me, has made the moment perfect.
कुछ आवाजें हैं जो मैं अपने साथ संजों के लाना चाहती थी,
थमी नदी के चारों ओर चहेकते पंछियों की
सूखे पत्तों पर मेरे क़दमों की
अपनी हीं साँसों की
अपनी मंदमंद मुस्कुराहट की
छत पर कुदते लंगूरों की
कुछ आवाजें हैं जो मैं वहीँ भूल आयीं हूँ|