Shaam ka rang
bahot pasand hai mujhe,
Paanch baje ke baad
Apni zindagi wapas milne ke ehsaas se
Aap kabhi bore nahi ho sakte.
Us raat ko, Keylong mein,
Har pahaad par alag alag kism ka neela rang tha.
Humne kab tak baith kar dekha hoga un pahaadon ko?
Aur log kehte hain ki jawani adheer hoti hai.
Wo shaam hi to thi,
Jisme gum gaye tum.
Us raat, andhere mein,
Tumhari taxi bahot dur nikal gayi.
Har wo shaqs jo aaj nahi hai,
Har wo vikalp jo sach ho sakta tha,
Har wo baat jo nahi kahi gayi,
Roz raat ki syaahi ban jaati hai.
Thodi bahot to haath par bhi lag jaati hai.
Galti se.
Aaj kal to din dhalte hi
Parde laga deti hu main.
Dhalte suraj se milna
Mujhe khaas pasand nahi.
Khair, rehne do.
Tum batao,
Tumhare wahan
Shaam ho gayi kya?
I’m rather fond of the colour of the evening.
The feeling of reclaiming your life after 5 pm can never bore you.
That night, in Keylong,
Every mountain bore a different shade of blue.
How long did we sit and watch those mountains?
And people say that youth is restless.
I remember you dissolving into the evening.
Your taxi making its way into the dark night.
Every person who isn’t here today,
Every possibility that could have been reality,
Every word that was left unsaid,
Turns into the ink of the night.
Some of it even stains my hands.
By mistake.
These days, I draw the curtains
as soon as the day fades.
I don’t particularly like
meeting the setting sun.
Anyway, let it be.
You tell me,
Is it evening where you are?
Vyoma 