The Girl at the Railway Station

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I happen to meet you at every railway station.

I see you in that Hizab wearing girl

She has been sitting next to my bench

for so long that I have taken several dives into her black eyes.

Quiet unaware of me, she carries on with playing with the one extreme her dupatta

I find you in that girl

Who with her crooked tooth and silver nose-ring

Could have easily inspired thousands of warriors to sacrifice their lives for her.

I meet you in that girl

Who has been talking incessantly on phone

She has been moving her lips as if they were rose petals

And were fluttering in the cool breeze of autumn

She too does not get transfixed by my unusual renderings.

What about that girl

Whose red-white polka dotted Salwaar appears to me as if thousands of murderous wars have been fought there

Doesn’t she look like you

Ah! You may declare that these all are just my glorified imaginations

And you don’t shadow chase me everywhere

But what about that mischievous smile of yours

which kills me thousand times

when I happen to meet you at the railway station.

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