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.